Three Strikes, You're Out
by dogsrplayful
Summary: Sammy Luvas is a college softball player with a love for Tim Lincecum. What will happen when she finally gets to meet her hero... and he enjoys her company? Major fluffiness. Written for my own personal happiness.
1. Chapter 1

**As any fan of mine should know, I'm a die-hard fan of Tim Lincecum. I would kill to date him, his hair is frickin amazing, and he's an outstanding athlete. Since there isn't many decents fanfics of Tim Lincecum around, I figured I'd write one. After all, he deserves it. **

**(By the way, if I know a lot of details about him that most people normally wouldn't, it's because I stalk him online. I swear, I'm in love with him.)**

**Also, I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing after a long break for the fans of my other stories. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV<strong>

I screamed, jumping into the air along with thousands of other fans at AT&T Park. I pumped the air with my fists, furiously. The famed A. Pujols had just struck out, lunging after one of Tim Lincecum's famous changeups for the third out of the inning.

Which brought me back to why I was here.

I had a stalker-like obsession with the 5'11 pitcher, as I had ever since his MLB debut in 2007. What could I say? His complexion was perfect, his green eyes framed perfectly by his nearly shoulder-length hair. Hair that was just as I'd fantasized about in a guy for years now. When I first saw Lincecum, the only thing I could think of was that this was my dream man, the man I'd tried to describe to my friends to years. I was only 22 when I first saw him on the Giants, my favorite team, but I fell in love instantly. Since then, I'd watched his every start on TV, and at the ballpark whenever I could afford it. Something that rarely occurred when you're struggling to pay your rent each month.

Bottom of the eighth, two down, Giants losing 6-5. I could see other fans flowing by me in crowds, assuming the game lost. I remained in my seat, eagerly watching as Cody Ross came up to bat.

Strike one, swinging, fastball to the outside corner.

Strike two, looking, inside.

Pitcher winds, throws.. The ball sprung off of Cody's bat, sailing high and deep into centerfield.

And right into the centerfielder's mitt.

I slumped in my seat, but then perked up, realizing Lincecum was pitching again. Looking around, I realized that there was few people left in the rows around me. Zeroing in on the one seat I'd always wanted, my eyes found it empty.

Casually, I stood up, slinging my backpack onto my shoulder. Looking around to make sure stadium patrols weren't going to yell at me, I made my way down to the seat right next to the dugout. It was right next to the dugout, on the side that was closer to home plate than left field.

Only a few feet away from where Lincecum always sat. Or rather, Timmy, as anyone who'd met him more than once called him, supposedly.

I sat down, and subtly turned my head to the left, looking to see who was sitting this inning. I was shocked to be looking into the eyes of Brandon Belt, the Giants' rookie first baseman.

I swept off my hat quickly, and yanked a Sharpie out of my pocket.

"Belt! Brandon! Brandon!" I hissed, gesturing for him to come near. He did so, standing up and putting his hands on the top of the wall next to me. Looking up at me curiously, he smiled.

"Can you sign my hat?" He nodded, accepting the sharpie.

Hearing the ball hit Stewart's glove, I spun, my ponytail hitting my cheek as I checked the count. _Great._ 0-2 count. Beware the famous slider to the right-handed hitter.

"Timmy fan?" Belt asked from behind me, and I turned with a smile, gratefully accepting my hat and sharpie back.

"Yeah. He's been my childhood hero. And first and only crush." That is, if 22 counted as childhood. Belt grinned back at me. I heard the ball hitting the bat, and turned just in time to watch the ball go flying. I exhaled, sharply, through my teeth.

"Come on, Cody.." I muttered, watching him running in left field.

Toward the wall, onto the warning track...

Out!

"Yes!" I couldn't help my slight jump as Cody casually tossed to ball to a fan, then jogged in. I took a deep breath, holding it, as Lincecum walked toward me. I held that breath for so long, I could almost feel myself getting giddy as the 27-year-old ace glanced up, and met my eyes.

I was spellbound, as his green orbs held mine. A whistle from the man I had previously been talking to snapped me out of my daze. I jumped slightly, then blushed, looking up and noticing Tim's signature dimple-inducing smirk. Obviously he had seen my preoccupation.

"Timmy!" Belt was waving at Lincecum, signalling him closer. My heart started beating faster. Could he really be...? My mouth opened slightly as the starting pitcher walked closer.

"This girl here, she's a distinct fan of yours. She says you're her first and only crush." Belt smirked, and I blushed, groaning internally. I SO would not have told him that if I'd known he would have told Tim Lincecum!

"Oh, is she?" Tim's deep voice sent shiver through my back, and caused my heart to race. Smiling his adorable grin, he took Belt's place at the wall.

"And your name is?" I took a deep breath before answering, trying to stop my voice from shaking.

"Samantha. But most people call me Sammy." I cut myself off before I could start to blabber. Lincecum's eyes took in my baseball jersey before coming back up to meet mine.

"Turn around for a sec please?" I obeyed, sweeping my black ponytail out of the way so he could see the number and name on the jersey. I turned back around, to see him smiling, a playful glint in his eye.

"I like your jersey." I laughed, a shaky sound, even to my own ears.

"Honestly, I do too. Even though it looks better on you." I bit my tongue, wincing as I realized what I'd just said. Strike one. He didn't seem to take offense, though, a fact I was desperately grateful for.

"Thanks." He said with a chuckle. I grinned, then realized the chance in a lifetime.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Can you sign my hat, please?" I pulled the Sharpie pen once more from my pocket.

Without a word, he took the pen and the hat. I couldn't help but watch, observing the movements of his arm. His arm only because the visor of his hat blocked off his pretty eyes, of course.

"Thank you!" He grinned, nodding in response, before walking over to a spot on the bench, sitting down to wipe his face with a towel. I sat down, turning my eyes to the game, even though my attention had been captured by the green-eyed ace in the dugout.

**So, whadya think? Is it alright, for a nearly three-month break from writing? Do you like it? (: Reviews, please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sammy's POV:**

The rest of the game passed uneventfully. The Giants won, 5-2, as expected. Pablo Sandoval hit a three-run homer to put them back ahead in the 4th, and also allowing Timmy to come back to the mound to pitch the next inning. If they hadn't reclaimed the lead, I suspect Bochy would've put in a reliever for Lincecum, even though it was only the fourth.

Cody Ross then splashed a two-run homer over left field. The big screen showed the people in canoes and kayaks, running each other over in an attempt to get the ball from Cody's splash hit.

I was one of the few Giants fans who stayed the whole game. I leaned on the wall, watching from across the dugout as my secret crush packed up his things, oblivious of my stare. Until, that is, he turned, and spotting me still sitting there, broke into a grin, and walked over.

"By the way, I don't think I ever asked your name.. " Simply the sound of his voice made me smile.

"Sammy. Sammy Luvas." He grinned.

"I'd tell you mine in response, but I'm pretty sure you know mine."

"Of course, Mr. Lincecum." How had I not noticed before? His eyes glittered like diamonds when those adorable dimples of his came out.

"Call me Timmy."

"Sure thing... Timmy," I breathed. I blushed, as I realized how pathetic I was to have been dreaming of this moment since I first saw him on TV. He smiled up at me, looking thoughtful. Then, he did a thing that took my breath away. He reached up, gently brushing down my flaming cheek with the back of his hand. His left hand, I noticed. Seemed as though instinct had him never using his right hand.

"I love your blush," he murmured, eyes unreadable, before turning away to move back to his corner of the dugout. I exhaled, shakily, and grabbed my bag. Tucking my hat into it, I walked out of the stadium.

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><p><strong>Buster Posey's POV:<strong>

I sighed, rolling my eyes as Timmy spoke again.

"Seriously, did you _see_ her? Her eyes, that rich brown..."

"Timmy, seriously. You forgot to even ask her name, you were lucky that she stayed behind after most fans left. Otherwise, you wouldn't even know the name of this mystery girl. And honestly, dude, don't let it affect your pitching. You're probably never even gonna see her again, man." Timmy shook his head stubbornly. At least, I thought it was out of stubbornness, until he spoke his next words:

"She asked me to sign her cap. And I added my phone number onto it." I dropped my batting helmet in shock, spinning around from my locker.

"Wait, you _what?"_

"You heard me."

"But.. what if she's just some gorgeous reporter? What if she posts it on her blog? What if you've just given your privacy straight to the public?"

"She's not that type." His mouth was set, the same way it was when he set a goal for himself. And he never missed his personal goals. Ever.

"But you only talked to her for, what... thirty seconds?"

He shook his head, his black hair flying everywhere with the motion. It was getting quite long, honestly... probably time for a trim.

"She's not that type. Trust me. I could tell." I shrugged, turning back to my locker, trying to fit my catcher's gear in it. If he was too stubborn to admit his mistake, so be it...

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I gasped, looking at the silver writing on the black background in disbelief. I reread it once, twice, three times...

No. It couldn't be.

Tim Lincecum, two-time Cy Young award winner, 5'11 pitcher, nicknamed "The Freak" and the face of the Giants franchise, would NOT write his number on my cap.

I must be imagining something.

I closed my eyes, counted to five, then opened them and looked at it again. Nope, the nine-digit number was still there. I exhaled. Maybe it wasn't even his number. Hell, I could call it right now, and he wouldn't pick up. Trust me.

I whirled, walking quickly to the nearest phone in my small apartment. Picking up the receiver, I dialed the barely legible numbers. Damn famous people. You could never read their handwriting...

"Hello?" The smooth voice made me gasp, and I dropped the receiver in shock. Fumbling, I hurriedly picked up back up.

"Ti-_Timmy?"_

_"_Sammy?" I took a deep breath, trying to recover my senses.

"That is my name, last time I checked." I joked, trying to cover up my shock.

"You called! You actually called!" I could hear his grin through his words.

"Well, y'see, you gave me your number... Generally, if people give you their number, you want them to call you. Besides, you know I'm a fan of yours. Why wouldn't I call?"

"Well... Buster sorta.. "

"Wait, you're talking about _Buster Posey,_ right?"

"Yeah. What other Buster were you thinking about?" I laughed to myself. Here he was, socializing casually with people I'd only dreamed about.

"Never mind. Carry on."

"Buster.. he sorta convinced me that you we're going to call ... " Wait a sec. Back up here.

"You guys were talking about _me? _Whatever for? I'm just a fan, fan of yours, fan of the Giants, fan of the game." He laughed on the other end of the line.

"I'll tell you... if you agree to go out with me, tomorrow night."

"The game tomorrow's at 1:05, right? I'll be there, in my normal spot. Can't you tell me then? It's Cain's start, isn't it?"

He laughed. "Yes, 1:05, no, I'll tell you tomorrow night, yes, it's Matt's start, and honestly, I'm so glad you'll be there." I could hear his sincerity, and it charmed me through and through.

"Alright, fine. Tomorrow night."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sammy's POV:**

I took a deep breath, looking into the mirror and brushing my hair for the thousandth time. Why was I so nervous before this? It was just a date. We were probably just going to get dinner somewhere, and he'd learn enough about me to be repelled, and we'd never meet again.

Oh, yeah. I was nervous because:

1) I'd never been on a date before. Never even been asked.

2) This was Tim Lincecum we were talking about. A famous baseball player who was every girl's dream.

I groaned aloud, dropping my head into my hands. I _really_ didn't want to ruin my childhood dream of dating Tim Lincecum. Seriously.

Oh well. Might as well just be myself. If he didn't like who I truly was, then we didn't belong together anyway, right?

I decided to simply let my hair down, and listen to music while I waited for my date to pick me up. We had talked after the game, and I'd given him my address when he offered to pick me up.

Three sharp, perfectly precise knocks on my door sent my heart racing again. I took a deep breath, pulled my headphones out, and opened the door.

Somehow, the sight of him made all of my fears seem to melt away.

"Hi," I breathed with a smile. He grinned back, and took off the sunglasses. "Want to come in, or should we go?"

"The reservation I made's not 'till seven, so we have some time. Besides, I'm interested in what your place looks like." I nodded, opening the door wider. He stepped inside, looking around.

"Nice, but..."

"But?" I asked, closing the door and walking over to stand next to him. He looked at me, and smiled.

"But it's even nicer with you here." I blushed, ducking my head, hoping my dark hair would cover the bright flush on my cheeks. He laughed, and reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. Which, naturally, only made my cheeks flame harder.

"You shouldn't hide your face," he murmured softly. "I like seeing it." I looked up, and smiled.

"Thanks," I muttered. "I-I like - I - I mean you look good too." Damn. Way to ruin it, Sammy. Surprisingly, he only laughed, and moved on.

"Can you give me the tour?" I nodded, and proceeded to lead him to the living room.

"If 'The Franchise' was correct, then I'd guess this would be your favorite room, " I teased, nodding to the flat-screen TV with the Wii and PS3 next to it. He grinned.

"Video games? Seriously? What do you have?" I sauntered over to check.

"Umm, Mario Kart, a couple others, and one that I think would be your personal favorite." He leaned forward eagerly to see. I held up the FIFA case with a triumphant smile. He grinned.

"You know me pretty well already. Isn't it only fair for me to know the same about you?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Sure, ask me anything."

"Well, let's start basic. Favorite color, food, Wii game?" I giggled. He was like a child, such simple questions.

"Green, Cup 'O' Noddles, Mario Kart. Next?"

"Birthday, favorite holiday, hobbies."

"Same as yours, Christmas, softball, and many more. Next."

The questioning continued much in the same way, until Timmy looked up at the clock and declared it time to leave. I grabbed my purse, and followed him out the door, pausing to lock it behind us. Playing the perfect gentleman, Timmy waited for me, taking the time to slide on his sunglasses. I turned, and smiled at my date, waiting like an obedient puppy.

As we started walking, he casually slipped his hand into mine, not breaking stride. I smiled, looking down at our intertwined fingers. When I looked up, I blushed to see his green eyes on mine, obviously catching my distraction.

"I'm taking you somewhere special tonight," he murmured softly. Captivated by his eyes and soft voice, I stood, breathless, in front of his sleek silver car.

"Where?" He smiled, and reached our intertwined fingers up to softball brush a strand of my hair away from my face. Predictably, I blushed. He smiled slightly.

"I like your blush.. Did I ever tell you that?" Wordlessly, I shook my head, stunned into silence. My heart was beating a thousand beats per minute, probably loudly enough that he would hear it if he listened closely. He smiled, and dropped my hand, opening the passenger door for me instead.

"After you, mi'lady," he said with a gallant bow that make me chuckle. I slid in, and the door shut beside me. While I waited for Tim to get in the other side, I looked around the interior cautiously. I'd never been driven in anything near this expensive, and that fact made me slightly nervous. But for some reason, when the ace pitcher slid in next to me, I relaxed. I could barely feel the motor as the car started, and pulled out smoothly.

"So, what songs you got on here?" I asked curiously, picking up his white iPhone. He glanced over for a second before refocusing on the road with a grin.

"Everything and anything. Go on, take a peek. The password's 0615," he added cheekily. I laughed aloud.

"Really? Your birthday? Someone's got an ego," I teased. He laughed.

"Hey, I could have set that password after your birthday, y'know," I grinned.

"Nice try." Scrolling through his artists, I was shocked to find that he liked a lot of the same music I did. Some familiar songs, some I didn't really like, and some I'd never heard of. One band's name caught my eye.

"Bassnectar?" I asked. The simple, yet unusual, compound word caught my eye.

"Yeah, it's a kinda techno-y band. Wilson recommended it. Go ahead, listen. You might like it." I hit play, and the car was filled with, indeed, techno sounds. From what I could tell, the song that was playing, "Basshead", consisted of two words as lyrics, "bass" and "head". Go figure.

As the last beat died out, I pursed my lips thoughtfully.

"Not bad, not bad."

"See if you can find something you like on there. I'm curious about your music taste." I complied, scrolling quickly through the "Artists" menu to look for one I recognized. OneRepublic caught my eye, and I instantly tapped the name, hoping he'd have the song by them that was simply my favorite.

"Yes!" I couldn't help exclaiming in happiness, hitting "Play". He grinned as the beginnings of "Secrets" filled the car.

"I need another story, something to get off my chest... " Tim's deep voice caught me off guard, making me smile. Admittedly, his singing wasn't as dominant as his pitching, but it was still pleasant to listen to. And still gave me the tingles, up and down my spine...

"My life is kinda boring, need something that I can confess..." I joined in with the familiar melody, and we sang the next four lines together.

"'Till all my sleeves are stained red, from all the truth that I've said, come by it honestly, I swear, thought you saw me wink, no, I've been on the brink, so..." Stuck at a red light, Tim turned to make eye contact with me at the chorus.

"Tell me what you want to hear, something that were like those years, I'm sick of all the insincere...

"So I'm gonna give all, my, secrets away..." We both trailed off at the words, staring into each others' eyes. The deep green in his gorgeous eyes was being brought out by the shade of the car, and I was beginning to get lost in them.

A loud car horn from behind snapped us out of our reverie, and... was he blushing? ... Tim turned back to the road, with the stoplight that had now turned green, and pressed the pedal to the medal once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey Timmy Fans!**

**Sorry for not updating - I was at my fastpitch softball tournament this weekend. (I'm the pitcher. :D) We took first place, finally! And - this is the best part - Timmy's starting tomorrow against the D-backs. In celebration, I figured I'd post another chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

Wednesday, Lincecum start against the Dimondbacks. Naturally, I was there, in my normal seat. This was the first time Timmy and I had met since our date - he had called me the night before, just to make sure I would be at his start the next day. His childlike joy when I confirmed was thoroughly charming, putting a grin on my face despite the fact that Cain had lost his start. Going into Timmy's start, we were one game up on the D-backs, just holding them to second place in the NL West.

"_And your starting pitcher for the World Champion San Francisco Giants... Tiiiimmm Lincecum!" _I joined the standing, screaming mass of fans as he walked up to the mound.

"Oh my God, he's just sooo hot, right?" I looked over to my right, and a scantily clad blond was standing there, flipping her hair, looking expectantly for an answer.

"Uhh.. "

_"_I mean, just _look_ at his arms! Mmmm... so hot... " She fanned herself with a hand dramatically, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I mean, his forearms WERE amazing - looking, but...

"And his eyes! They're so deep... He could use a haircut, though." She looked skeptically out at the pitcher, famed hair flying behind him as he threw his nasty changeup in the dirt. Strike three.

I used the need for cheering as an excuse for not responding to the blond slut's comments. I mean, his looks weren't all he had going for him. His personality was amazing. It made my blood boil that this girl only wanted him for his looks. I mean, seriously! What was with the world?

I smiled down, watching my - was it right to call him my date? - walk in from the dugout. He glanced up, and smiled his dimple-ridden grin before gesturing for me to lean down. I obeyed.

"Wait for me after the game," he said into my ear over the noise of the crowd. I pulled back, and nodded so he could see. Smiling, I watched him walk to the other end of the dugout to get a drink from one of the giant Gatorade coolers.

"OMG! You actually talked to him!" The fake blond beside me gasped in shock. I mentally rolled my eyes, and simply nodded. She flipped her hair.

"So, like, what are you, like, his sister?" I actually laughed aloud.

"No, I'm his... " I was stuck at what to say. The blond looked enlightned, raising her penciled eyebrows high, with a fake smirk.

"Oh, I got it." She patted my shoulder, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "It's okay, we all want him." Pulling back, she giggled. "I mean, what else would we come here for? To watch just anyone get all dirty?" She wrinkled her nose, obviously disapproving of dirt in any way, shape or form. I grimaced, turning away, pretending to cheer for Nate Schierholtz as he came up to bat.

The blond finally left my side at the end of the game, hanging on the arm of a guy that she most certainly had not come with. As soon as she was out of earshot, I breathed a sigh of relief before leaning against the dugout wall, watching the crowd file slowly out of the stadium, like ants from an anthill.

"What's so interesting?" The deep voice in my ear made me smile as I turned to face the speaker.

"The relief from an annoying blond chattering in my ear all game." He laughed aloud.

"So was that why you were talking to her and that other guy?"

I sighed in annoyance. "I was not talking to her - she was talking to ME, and the poor soul who caught her eye was simply along for the ride." I shook my head in pity for the man.

Shuffling from side to side, Tim looked out at the field. The field crew was just finishing dragging the field, although they weren't dragging with the same intensity that they did between the fifth and sixth innings.

"Do you have your glove with you?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah. Why?" I pulled it out of my bag to prove it.

"Leave your bag there. Just hop the fence." He stood back, and I shrugged, easily clearing the fence and landing in the dugout with none of the agilty of a cat. Pulling out his own mitt, he grabbed a baseball from a nearby bucket and walked out of the dugout.

"Wait... Didn't they just drag the field?" I called, not wanting to make them re-do it. Timmy shrugged.

"They won't mind if we stay in the outfield." Finding no fault with this logic, I followed the pitcher out, and we took classic spots - him in center, me in left. Lazily, he tossed the ball up in the air. Instinctively, I took my first steps back, before calling out, "Mine!" and charging back to my left to make the catch. I turned, and threw it in the air to the pitcher. Looking up, he stepped slightly to the right, and reached up with his glove to catch it. I raised an eyebrow.

"You really should call the ball, you know. Helps avoid collisions. And use two hands." He grinned.

"What can I say? There's a reason I'm not an outfielder!" I laughed, and we continued to toss the ball, finally calling it a night after nearly all the managers had left the park.

"You catch well," he commented as we walked, side by side, down the foul line in left field. I shrugged.

"Outfield's my second position. But thanks." He looked intrigued.

"Wait, then what's your first?"

"Pitcher." He smiled.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." We both laughed, then fell into a comfortable silence as we continued to walk towards the dugout.

"I really like you, you know," I turned to face Timmy, smiling softly.

"I really, really, like you too." He grinned at my response before stopping right where he stood. I stopped, and turned to face him.

"I know we've only been on one date, but.. I really like you. Would you be my girlfriend?" Almost unconsciously, he reached out, holding my hands lightly with both of his. The setting sun illuminated his eyes, which looked apprehensive as he chewed his bottom lip, waiting for my answer.

"Of course." I smiled, and reached out, pulling him into a hug. I don't know how many seconds we stayed like that, but as long as it was, it was the best hug of my life.

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><p><strong>Just a little AN here. Has anyone noticed I'm mix-and-match-ing the current events in Giants games with what happens in this story? ;) But yeah. Okay, so now that their relationship has officially started, I have a descision to make. Not now, but later - much later - should I change this story to an M rating (for lemons) or leave it the way it is, T rating with only hints?<strong>

**Also, just BTW, I'm going to have surgery on Wednesday - I'm probably going to update more of out boredom for the next week during my recovery.**

**Reviews always make my day! (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, so... I'm going to keep it T. I mean, there'll be implications (later, people.) but, yeah. If you guys WANT an M rated version, though, I can post an M version too. :D**

**Oh, and I started a blog at .com - it'll have updates on which story I'm going to update next, when to expect an update, etc. Check it out? (:**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S. - I just noticed I use Buster Posey's POV a lot. :D Oh, well. He's my... third favorite player. My second favorite (Crawford) got sent back down to minors. ):**

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><p><strong>Buster's POV:<strong>

"You seem happy today," commented Sergio Romo to Timmy. The ace was practically skipping through the dugout before the game, a cheesy grin plastered to his face.

"I bet he found a hot girl to go home with last night," Wilson added, raising an eyebrow. Timmy grinned.

"Not quite."

"Got a hot girl's number?"

"Nope!"

"Does it have to do with a hot girl?"

"Well, yeah." Wilson grinned.

"I got it now! You found more than one hot girl." Timmy laughed aloud, shaking his head.

"Still wrong." Wilson's smile dropped underneath the fearful beard.

"Then I have absolutely no idea."

"He's dating a hot girl?" Torres offered jokingly. Wilson laughed.

"Dating doesn't make people euphoric."

"But you date a hot girl, you get to go home with her more than once!" Wilson nodded, accepting the point, before countering it. It seemed as though I was the only one who noticed that the pitcher didn't deny dating the girl.

"Dating someone?" I asked him with a smile. Still smiling out at the field, he nodded.

"Is she at the field?" He turned to me, grinning hugely, and gestured for me to follow him. I did, and we walked to the far end of the dugout, near the giant Gatorade coolers that Wilson had beaten up once or twice after struggling. Timmy leaned up to a girl in the stands, a brunette, dressed simply in skin-tight jeans and a t-shirt with a picture of a softball player.

"Buster, this is my girlfriend, Sammy." I didn't fail to notice that he had grasped her hand, and both were grinning like idiots.

"Buster Posey. Nice to meet you." She offered her other hand to shake.

"Do you play?" I asked, gesturing at her shirt. She nodded.

"Fastpitch. As a pitcher." I raised my eyebrows.

"You know my sister?" She laughed.

"Heard of her. Played her once, I think. She's a great hitter, much like yourself." The crack of a bat on the field made me turn, and watch the tiny white ball go flying over the fence in left field. Cody Ross, home run. I applauded, smiled at Tim's girl once more, and lined up at the steps to high-five Ross the Boss when he finished his jog. After a few seconds, Tim joined the huddle, standing beside me, high-fiving Cody. As we drifted back to our original spots in the dugout, I looked over at the pitcher.

"Pitcher, huh?" I smiled. He grinned.

"What can I say? Pitcher connection." I laughed.

* * *

><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I couldn't help it. I wasn't a "social butterfly" type that was always on their phone, but I had to. Pulling out my phone, I sent a quick text.

**met Buster Posey, thanks to Timmy. :DDDDD**

**wait, r u dating him now?**

**yeah! :D**

**OMG! u guys r such a cute couple! **

I laughed at Desiree's match-making ways, before putting my phone back into my backpack, sitting on the floor at my feet. As usual, I stayed until after the game, swinging my legs and staring out at the emptying stadium. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as I realized that tomorrow would be the last game in this homestand - and the next one wouldn't be for a month. I didn't even notice my boyfriend sit down next to me until he spoke.

"What are you thinking?" he murmured. I sighed.

"Tomorrow's the last game in AT&T." I turned my head, staring at his beautiful green eyes. His face fell slightly, but nodded.

"The distance is going to be hard, isn't it?" I nodded, then shrugged.

"But we'll work through it. Buster and Kristen do it, right?" He smiled again.

"Yeah. I like you too much to let you go so soon."

"Same." We both smiled at each other in silence for a moment, before he spoke again.

"Tell me more about your softball life. What pitches do you have? Where do you play? When do you play?"

"Fastball, change, curve, screw, rise, drop, and crop - a curve-drop - in answer to your first question. Second question: College games. Third: Weekends, generally, but occasionally weekdays, after school hours. Softball comes after school." He turned his head.

"College? What are you studying?"

"Veterinarian." I smiled. I'd always loved animals. He grinned back at me.

"Then you need to meet Cy." I nodded eagerly. I'd always loved his sweet bulldog, from what I'd seen of him on the Web, at least.

"Yeah. I bet my girls would love him." I thought about my two German Shepherd mixes, and how they'd get along with sweet little Cy.

"Your girls..?" Tim's smile had dropped completely, and his face slightly guarded.

"My dogs. They're just so spoiled rotten, they act like two-year-olds." I said, laughing. He smiled in relief.

"Oh, good. For a second I thought I was falling for a taken girl," he joked, and I laughed.

"You're actually my first," I admitted, and he smiled, reaching out to brush his fingers across mine.

"I'm honored." He murmured, and I took a deep breath, savouring it before letting it out. Looking up at the darkening sky, and the clouds gathering over it, he sighed.

"We should probably go..." I nodded, and he stood up, offering a hand to me. I laughed before taking it.

"I don't need help getting out of a stadium seat," I teased, and he grinned.

"I'm trying to be the gentleman here!" We continued to tease each other lightly as we walked out of the stadium, hugging each other in front of my car before he joined the rest of the Giants on their team bus.


	6. Chapter 6

**I know I said that this wasn't next on my list to update, but this is what I'm feeling. I mean, I love the kid! He's adorable! (:**

**BTW: Link to my blog, with spaces: glassangel (dot) weebly (dot) com. Kay? (:**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I sat down in front of my TV in my tiny little apartment, laptop in hand. I gently set my laptop down in front of me, plugging the power into the wall socket before turning the TV on. I smiled slightly as Kruk&Kuip were shown, with the stadium behind them. Today, we were at Houston. Honestly, the Astros' stadium had always been my favorite - apart from AT & T, that is. The glass windows behind the seats in the outfield gave the field a certain glow, while obviously keeping it cool on the field as temperatures outside climbed above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Flipping open my laptop, I logged on to Facebook before glancing up to the TV, just in time to see my gorgeous boyfriend's face. The simple sight of him put a smile on my face, and I watched him, leaning on the dugout fence, bending over to spit out a sunflower seed. I chuckled slightly. Spitting. Such a wonderful sight - those camera-men and women always caught the players in their best moments.

**Blink.** I looked down, seeing that my best friend Desiree had messaged me. We'd met on an A ball team when we were both in seventh grade, and hit it off. We still stayed in contact, texting or IM'ing every day.

**sam! ur on for once!**

**watchin the game, desi. :P**

**omg ditto! LOOK. LOOKLOOKLOOK.**

Obeying her command, I looked up, grinning at the shot of Timmy. For once, he actually looked like the amazing man he was, with the light from the glass causing his face to glow.

Then he turned his head, staring straight into the camera with his captivating green eyes. I inhaled sharply, unable to tear my eyes away long enough to reply to Desi's message. He was still staring at the camera, then he smiled. A close-lipped, beautiful smile, that was almost as though he were smiling directly at the viewer.

And then they switched to a shot the leadoff Astro batter, swinging in the on-deck circle, trying to time Matt Cain. I exhaled in a huff, slightly annoying at the cameraman, before turning to Facebook.

**omg did you see that?**

**yeah o: his eyes, my god...**

**no it was like he was looking at you!**

**doubt it.. we only started dating yesterdayyyyy.**

**if you sayss soooo. :P**

"Anddd the first pitch of the at-bat..." I turned, grinning at the sound of the ball hitting the glove. Strike one. Leaning back against the wall, computer on my lap and legs straight out in front of me, I grinned. This was going to be a good game.

* * *

><p><strong>Timmy's POV:<strong>

I struggled to get my head in the game, something I knew either Righetti or Boch would criticize me for later, but I couldn't help it. I felt almost empty. Without Sam by my side, it was like I'd left half of myself in San Francisco.

And another thing that was bothering me. Had I made the wrong move with the camera earlier?

Being in the nation's eye was something I'd never get used to, yet in a way, something I'd adapted to quickly. By now, as a 27-year-old player, I knew that you had to watch what you do, and what you said. Everything, every little movement, every little smile, was to be broken down and analyzed in Web articles later, and those articles accessible by anyone for years to come.

And I mean, who said she'd be watching? Maybe she didn't really even care about me, like Amy that I'd gone out with for a while a few years ago. Maybe she only had the commitment when we were doing well. Hell, maybe she wasn't even a Giants follower, much less a fan!

"You look like you're giving yourself a brain hemorrhage," someone commented beside me. I turned, and smiled at my catcher.

"That obvious?"

Posey shrugged, looking out at Cain on the mound. "Kinda. I noticed the thing you did with the camera earlier."

I chewed my lip. "Should I not have done that?" Buster shook his head.

"No, it was the right move. Girls find that kind of thing cute." He smiled slightly, turning to face me. Obviously, he found it slightly amusing that a younger man was giving dating advice to the older.

"But I'm not even sure she's watching!" I rested my chin on the fence, eyes following a pop fly from Nelson. Obviously staying in the park, it was clearly Torres' ball, and he drifted over, making the catch.

"If I interpretted the signs correctly, then trust me, she's watching." Leaning casually beside me, Posey watched the ball thrown to Fontenot, playing cutoff at shortstop.

"What sort of signs?" I asked curiously. If I had any hope at this girl, I needed to know the signs. Something rather neccessary to a pitcher.

Buster shrugged. "It's different for every girl. But Kristen's kind of quiet, fangirl, sort of like your girl. Sammy, is that her name?"

I couldn't help the smile. "Yeah, that's her." The possessive vibe in me loved to hear Buster call Sammy mine.

Seeing everything, the catcher grinned, slapping me playfully on the back. "Dude, you've got it bad."

I grinned in return. "I know, Buster. I know."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, all. Sorry about lack of updates - full story of escuses on my blog: glassangel (dot) weebly (dot) com! (: But so anyways, SSN is also being updated - I went for this one instead because of a request in a PM, and because of inspiration lingering here right now. (: Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

Grabbing my purse from under the counter, I called to my boss.

"Okay, Judy, if you don't need anything, I'm going to go?"

"Sure! See you tomorrow, Sammy!" Ruby, my boss, was a cheerful person. I worked four out of five weekdays, which left me slightly short in the finiancial situation, but I didn't mind. I had to leave time in my schedule for softball, after all. Being a pitcher took a lot of time devotion.

Pulling out my phone as I walked out of the local vet's office, I checked the time quickly. Damn, I'd missed the game. It was already past four, and today, they played at 12:45. Clicking the MLB app on my iPhone, I waited impatiently for the final score to load as I walked briskly to my car, opening the door and shutting it behind me.

The score finally appeared. A 3-0 win, with Timmy getting a win for once. I grinned, and slid my phone into my pocket as I made the short drive to my apartment, listening to the radio.

"Oh-oh, I want some mo-ore..." Animal, by Neon Trees. I sang the next lines, as I slowed for a red light.

"Oh-oh, what are you waiting for...take a bite of my heart, tonight," I grinned; it'd always been one of my favorite songs. As I pulled up to my apartment, I turned into my parking spot, pulling the keys from the ignition. I walked up to the door. Opening it, I greeted my girls, who pawed their crates in excitement. I let them out, dialing a number I knew by heart on my iPhone as I did so.

"Hello?" Ths familiar voice caused me to smile.

"Hey, Timmy. It's me, Sam."

"Oh, hey!" He sounded like a child, so eager.

"I had to work today, and missed the game. I saw you got a win, though!" He laughed.

"We finally called up some offense."

"Thank goodness. Got any highlights for me?"

"Well, Keppy hit a homer, immediately followed by Pablo." I grinned.

"Back to back jacks. Love it." He laughed.

"And then Cody hit a third, an inning later." I cheered aloud. Cody "The Boss" Ross had always been one of my favorite plavers, despite his recent slump.

"Great, so he's breaking out of his slump?"

"Definitely. So, no interest in learning your favorite's player's stats?" He teased, knowing full well that he was, and always had been, my favorite player.

"Oh, don't worry, darling. I was just saving the best for last." I flirted slightly. "So, how many K's? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"You overestimate me, Sammy." I could hear the grin through his voice.

"Still didn't answer the question."

"Should I?"

"Should you what?"

"Should I answer the question."

"Yes, you should."

"Really?"

"Just answer it already!"

"I forgot what the question was."

"...So did I." He laughed aloud.

"Works every time." I giggled, then sighed.

"I miss you, Timmy."

"I miss you too." His voice was quieter now, sad.

"How much longer until the next homestand?"

"After this series, I think it's Mariners, then A's, then home." I smiled.

"I can probably make it to a game or two at the Colliseum. At least you'll be in the area!"

"True," he replied. "And leave the day of the first game open for me, alright?"

"Sure thing," I smiled happily. Only this series and one more before I'd see Timmy again.

* * *

><p><strong>Timmy's POV:<strong>

After around an hour of talking on the phone about anything and evervthing that came to mind, Sammy said she had to go. I looked at the clock, shocked that it was already eight - in Texas.

"Oh, I'm sorry! You shouldn't have let me take up all your time!" I told her, ashamed that I'd been selfish enough to forget that she not only had work, she was three hours behind my time.

"It's fine, Timmy. It wasn't even nearly a waste of time. I'll make sure I can watch the game tomorrow."

"'Kay. See you in... about a week, right?" Only seven days, I told myself. Seven days. So why did it feel like a year?

"Should be. I can't wait." I smiled.

"Nor can I. I won't hold you anymore."

"Alright. Bye, Timmy."

"Bye, Sammy." I waited on the line until I heard the familiar _click _of her hanging up.

"I love you," I whispered quietly into the silence, realizing it was true.

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><p><strong>Sorry, short chapter today! <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Buster's POV:**

Dragging my luggage behind me, I walked into the clubhouse, feeling like an undercover FBI agent. I was dressed in a suit and tie, as was the requirement for the Giants, and fairly large sunglasses covered most of my face so that I would avoid being reconized. Wilson walked beside me, all of his uniform in a simple backpack on his back. We chatted casually as we walked through the large swinging doors, declaring the Giants logo.

Stepping into the riot known as the changing room, I did my usual - change quickly, and sit around joining in on the team chatter. Today, it was Huff and Burrell who were walking around naked, somehow comfortable with displaying their bodies to the 40-odd other men in the room.

I deliberately looked away from the laughing, naked men, and my eyes found the clock on the wall instead. It read 7:00, fifteen minutes 'til game time. I stood up, and walked over to Timmy, who was starting today.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked him, sitting down next to him on the bench.

He shrugged. "Same old, same old." I turned, recognizing the moodiness in his voice. Moodiness, as I knew from experience, was not something that sat well with Tim Lincecum when he was on the mound. Bochy expected me to talk out anything that would affect his pitcher on the mound - yet another thing I had learned.

"What's up?" I made sure that my voice was stern enough that he knew that I wasn't going to let him get away with not telling me, but gentle enough to tell him he had a friend to turn to, a shoulder to lean on.

He sighed. "I'm doomed, Buster." Reaching up, he ran his hand through his hair, which was now inching past his shoulders.

"Doomed?"

"With Sammy," he clarified. Uh oh. Relationship problems did horrors to the mind and emotions.

"What happened?" I asked cautiously. Please don't say you broke up, I willed mentally. That would destroy his state of mind..

He murmured something under his breath.

"What's that? Sorry, I didn't catch it." I asked, leaning slightly closer. He lifted his head.

"No, it's okay, I'm just getting used to saying it." He took a deep breath. "Buster, I'm in love with her."

I grinned, relief flooding through me, and clapped him on the back lightly.

"Congrats, man." He shook his head, black hair swirling in a tornado around his head.

"No, that's not a good thing." he stressed.

"Why not?" I asked, puzzled.

"Because she doesn't love me," he murmured. Oh, crap.

"You told her, and she said she didn't love you?"

"No, I haven't told her yet. I can't, Buster." Whew. Close one.

"Tim, she loves you. It's pretty obvious." He shook his head.

"We've only been dating for a few weeks. She can't." I stood up, patting him on the back as he rose, too.

"Trust me, she does. You'll know when to tell her, and she'll say it back." I was confident about this fact. It was clear, in the way they interacted, that they were both head over heels for each other.

He simply sighed in response. "I hope so. Ever since I realized it last night, I've been wanting to call her, just to say it - but I chicked out every time." He rose his head to look at me, a small half-smile on his face.

I shrugged. "Just put it out of your mind, for now. We've got a game to win." He nodded, and side by side, we walked out to the bullpen for his pitching warm-ups.

* * *

><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I smiled widely as my cell phone began to ring. I knew it was Timmy; he called me every day after his game. I picked up with without looking at the ID.

"Hey," I said, already anticipating the sound of his voice.

"Sam, it's Buster Posey." Automatically, I frowned, before shaking it off.

"Hey, Buster. What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you - are you free on the last day of our homestand?" I scrolled through my mental calendar.

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

"Kristen's throwing a party for the team and their significant others. Timmy doesn't know he's going yet, though. I wanted to make sure you were free, because I'm positive that he'll go if you're going." I laughed.

"Sure. Where and what time?"

"It's going to be at AT&T - Boch wants to do a quick hitting practice, and Kristen wants to just go ahead and have a picnic. She says that all the ladies can get comfortable with each other while watching the guys hit. Kristen wants everyone assembled by five, and I'm pretty sure Timmy will want to pick you up." I sighed to myself.

"Can you tell him to just go ahead and hit, and I'll get myself there? He needs the hitting practice. But don't tell him I said that last part," I added as an afterthought. Posey laughed on the other end of the line.

"Sure, Sam. Great to hear you'll be there."

"You bet. Good luck tomorrow!"

"Thanks. Bye, Sam."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone, mentally berating myself for being disappointed when I realized it was Buster. I mean, he was a great guy, and an awesome catcher. I was lucky to say that I'd even met him, and here I was, disappointed because he called me!

My phone rang again, interrupting my internal rant. This time, I made sure to check the caller ID before picking it up. When I read the name, I grinned.

"Hey, Timmy."

"Hey, Sammy. What's up?"

"Not much. Just stalking your Facebook page, which you're never on, by the way." I shifted the phone, clenched between my shoulder and ear as I continued to browse through the photos, some not very flattering, and some taking my breath away. He laughed.

"No, because I'm too busy talking to my beautiful girlfriend." I blushed, thankful that he couldn't see it.

"So? I'm talking to my amazingly hot boyfriend, and I'm on Facebook."

"Well, I'm playing travel baseball nationwide for three-fourths of the year!"

"Fine, you got me." I conceeded defeat. "I can't top that. And you're playing excellent ball, as was proven today." Today, he'd gone with eight K's, and seven strong, scoreless innings. And to top it all off, he got a hit!

"But you're batting in the five slot, and pitching excellently." I grinned, happy that he'd found the time to watch at least part of my game.

"Someone's been paying attention."

"I've seen all your games," he confessed. Slightly surprised, I raised my eyebrows.

"But some of my Cal games overlap the Giants game...?" I played for the Cal Berkeley college team, where I was finishing off my P.h.D. in veterinary medicine.

"I record them, and watch them back later. You seriously think I'd miss a game of yours? And besides, all the sport-centers on TV talk about you. It would have been impossible for me to miss every part of your games."

SportsCenter was talking about me? I didn't know that...

"Why would they talk about me?"

"Well, you're the latest ball renaissance-woman, so to speak. You can hit, you can pitch, you can play a solid third, and you can play outfield. If only they knew how much you do outside of softball, too."

"And if only they knew precisely how lovable you are outside of dominating on the mound." Shocked at what had just come out of my mouth, my eyes widened. That had slipped.

"Thanks." Timmy said, a smile evident in his voice. I grinned, leaning back in my desk chair, and looked up at the calendar hanging above my desk.

"That was #2 against Mariners, right?"

"Yeah. I'm shocked that Ms-stalk-everything-Giants didn't know that," he teased. I laughed.

"I knew it, I just wanted to confirm. As you said, I stalk everything Giant." We laughed for a moment before falling into silence together.

"One more game, and then you'll be back in CA later that night, correct?"

"Yeah." He sighed, and mumbled something that sounded like "One more game without her, c'mon, Timmy, you can do this."

"And the day after that, Sammy. The day of the first game. Can I pick you up around four? There's somewhere I want to take you." I nodded to myself.

"I'm going to be at Cal, practicing. It ends at four, though, so that's perfect, if you're okay with picking me up from there... ?" I turned the last sentence into a question.

"Sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow, darling." He paused for a moment. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"... Never mind. Bye, talk to you tomorrow." He hung up before I could respond, the small _click _sounding in my ear.

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><p><strong>Long chapter today! Hope you enjoyed (:<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Timmy's POV:**

"Come on, Zito," I groaned at my roommate, still scurrying around the hotel room. It was almost ten in the morning, and I was anxious to get to the team jet that we flew on. I was standing at the door. In line with Bochy's dress code, I was wearing a button-down shirt, tucked into dress pants, with my usual bow tie. Headphones hung around my neck, and shades were on my face as armor from the public.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Barry Zito emerged, wearing a towel around his waist.

"What's the hurry? We don't have to be at the bus until eleven."

"It's ten already!"

Zito looked indifferent. "So?"

"So let's go!"

"Dude, seriously, is there something in San Fran that you want to see? You've been moping about for days, and now that we're going back to AT&T, you're suddenly in a huge rush?"

I shrugged. "I have plans with my girlfriend."

Zito's face relaxed into an understanding smile. Since I joined the team, Zito was always the person I'd been closest to, besides Posey, of course.

"Gotcha. I'll be down in a few minutes, if you could grab a coffee in the lobby?" I shot him a thankful smile, and headed down.

* * *

><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

"Drop your gloves; half at second, half at home," my coach called out. A collective groan issued from the team, although we obediently obeyed. Jogging, I made my way to home. Walking to the pitching mound, Coach rolled us each a softball.

"Ready, Set...GO!" At the shouted burst, the first person in each line shot off, bolting as fast as possible around the bases. Both girls were encouraged by their teammates, standing in line at the bases.

"Come on, Rosi! You got this!" I called, and as the girl from the other team rounded the plate, I steped up, being next in line. I reached out to the ball, both hands outstreched, yelling encouraging words as I did this. Rosi flew by me, handing the ball off to me as she ran by me. Switching it to my right hand, I shoved off of my toe, planted hard in the dirt. Approaching first, I took my turn, hitting the inside of the base with my left foot as I sprinted beyond it. Focusing hard, pumping my legs and arms for all they were worth, I continued to run, taking short, clenched gasps as I approached home.

"Come on, you can do it! Almost there!" I pushed myself harder, harder, before passing off the ball, and allowing my momentum to carry me forward. Putting out my hands, I hit the fence hard, effectively bringing me to a halt. I walked back to the line, and put my hands on my knees as I breathed hard for a moment, before continuing to cheer my team on.

I was so focused on the race at hand that I didn't notice the lone human, leaning casually against the fence.

* * *

><p><strong>Timmy's POV:<strong>

She was cute when her face was flushed pink from running, with strands of hair escaping her ponytail. She was also a good team player, calling her other teammates my name, encouraging them, cheering them on, even as she gasped for breath. I had placed myself in a deliberately hidden area, vines dividing me from whatever parents or friends had gathered on the bleachers to watch the practice. The coach called them all together, and as they converged on him, his head was hidden among the mass of girls taller than him. I chuckled slightly; it was an amusing sight to see.

The coach finished whatever he was saying to the girls. "Do your break, and see you Saturday." He called as he walked off the field. As I watched, the girls formed themselves into a huddle, each slinging their arms among the shoulders of the girls on the left and right of them.

"Left, right, left, right," one murmured as they began to sway, causing smiles and light laughter among the team. Suddenly, in perfect unison, their voices broke out, ringing across the hilltop.

"_It's Bears time, it's Bears time, what, what!_

_It's Bears time, it's Bears time, roo, roo..." _As I watched, slightly fascinated by this softball war cry, they repeated the verse not just once, not twice, but three times, before breaking apart and putting a hand in the circle.

"ONE, TWO, THREE!"

_"BEARS! YOU KNOW!" _At that, they broke apart, saying their goodbyes as they walked back to the dugout. My eyes were fixed on Sammy, who had reached up, and was now doing something to her hair, which had previously been hanging in a high, long ponytail. I realized, after a bit of watching, that she was twisting it into a bun. Her friend said something to her that made her grin, and in the middle of talking to her teammate, her eyes roamed over her head, scanning the crowd, before rotating slowly and resting on me. I grinned, and her eyes lit up, making me catch my breath. With a breathtaking smile on her face, she ditched her friend, and ran towards me. I grinned, shoving myself off the fence, and opening my arms to catch her in the middle of her running leap. My arms locked around her waist, and I internally fought back a moan as her legs wrapped around my hips. Her arms came up, locking themselves around my neck.

Her next move shocked me, as her mouth came down on mine, surprisingly soft, yet still somehow hard. Unconsciously, I let her slip smoothly through my arms down to the ground, my arms remaining around her waist as her fingers threaded themselves through my hair. I moaned into her mouth at the sensation. Our lips moved, perfectly in sync with each other. Her lips slid open, ever so slightly, and next thing I knew, her tongue was probing lightly at the spot where my lips met hers. I allowed her to tease open my mouth, her tongue gliding smoothly across my lips, leaving silky, wet trails. We kissed for a while longer, before she pulled back, eyes gliding slowly open. Her chocolate eyes were soft, and a small smile graced her mouth.

Her fingertips were still playing lightly through my hair, sending shivers down my spine.

"I missed you," she whispered, face a few inches from mine.


	10. Chapter 10

**Timmy's POV:**

I exhaled shakily.

"I missed you too," I murmured, then leaned in, slowly, for one last kiss before I pulled back, keeping my arm around her waist. Somehow, that simple contact sent tingles through my arm around the rest of my body.

"Wanna pack up?" She grinned at me, and nodded, and we walked over to the dugout. She made a beeline for a blue-and-gold bag on wheels, with her name embroidered on the top flap. I stood above her, simply waiting as she packed up her gear. I noticed a couple of her teammates staring, and smiled awkwardly. I turned my head down again, staring at the ground in front of me, before I realized that Sammy had stood up.

"Geez, stop staring, guys," she laughed. "This is my boyfriend, Timmy." I smiled, waving at her friends, who at least smiled back.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile. I nodded, and wrapped my arm around her waist again, and she leant her head on my shoulder. It felt like the entire side of my body that was touching her was buzzing with a comfortable warmth.

We walked in silence to my car, and I opened the passenger door for her first, gesturing with a smile. Laughing, she slid in, and I shut the door after her before walking over to my own side, and getting in. I turned as I buckled my seatbelt, and laughed as I noticed her scrolling through the music on my iPhone with a raised eyebrow.

"Here's the cable, if you want to listen," I suggested, holding it out to her, before driving off. Sure enough, music soon began flowing out of the speakers.

"You have varied taste," she commented idlely, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I do," I admitted. She smiled, and I grinned as I recognized the song drifting from the speakers. Frank Sinatra.

"Sing for me?" I turned, to see her with a faint smile on her face, and the most tender look on her face I'd ever seen, short of the kiss we'd shared minutes ago.

"Of course, love." The word slipped out of my mouth before I could catch it, and I winced. Strike one. I turned the volume up and started singing along to the words I knew by heart to cover my mistake. After all, three strikes and you're out.

_"In other words, hold my hand,"_ Playing along with the music, I reached out my right hand to her, and she grasped it in hers.

"_In other words, baby, kiss me," _We had convientently stopped at a red light, and so I turned to her, grinning. She smiled, and leaned over, kissing my cheek.

"_Fill my heart with song, let me sing forevermore, you are all I long for, all I wish and adore..." _I continued to sing the lyrics as we made our way through Berkeley.

"_In other words..." _I looked anxiously at Sammy. "_I, love, you." _I stopped, staring anxiously at her face, as she stared at me, aghast. Her eyes began to well up, slowly, and unable to look at her face, I raised our joined hands to my lips, kissing each knuckle of her hand carefully.

"I love you, Sammy," I whispered in between kisses. I looked up, to see the tears rolling slowly down her face. Terrified, I gently took her face between my hands, and kissed away her tears.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I - I - I know it's too early, that we've just had our first kiss, but I - I just - " Sammy cut me off by pressing her lips to mine, fiercely. I groaned softly. After a minute, she pulled back, eyes still shining with unshed tears.

"I love you too, Timmy," she breathed. Overjoyed, I couldn't help myself. I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned way over the divider, kissing her fully and properly. I barely even noticed all the cars honking around us, as the light had changed back to green and I still hadn't moved. Cars began to pull around us, as we continued to kiss. Her fingers were brushing themselves through my hair again, and I gasped. Ever since I grew my hair out, or more specifically, since I'd met Sammy, I'd learned that I loved it when she tangled her fingers in my hair. Or when she brushed her fingertips over my hair lightly. Or when they were brushing down my sides, as they were now...

We pulled apart, both of us gasping.

"I love you, Sammy," I murmured.

And with that, she whispered the words I'd been waiting for for my entire life. "I love you too."

* * *

><p><strong>Aww. They're too cute. :D Song: Fly Me To The Moon, by Sinatra. Reviews always appreciated. (:<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**Sammy's POV:**

The moment was so perfect, as he began to slowly pull back, never breaking eye contact. Brushing his fingertips slowly across my cheek as he leaned back, he complied with the honking requests of the drivers around us as he continued to drive.

"Buster was right," he commented idly in the comfortable silence following our confession.

"About what?" I tilted my head slightly in confusion. Timmy looked over at me, and grinned before turning back to the road.

"We were talking before the game. He said that I'd know when the right time to say it would be, and that you loved me, too."

I blushed, looking down at our still joined hands, laying on the divider. I was that obvious, huh? "You guys were talking about me?"

"Yeah," the all-star pitcher looked slightly abashed. "I was scared to death. I thought that I had finally, finally, fallen in love - but with somebody who didn't, couldn't, love me back."

I stared at him in shock. "How could I not love you? Seriously, just ask any female Giants fan, of any age, and they'd give you a list of reasons why they'd kill to date you, hell, even just to talk to you. I was one of them, and honestly, still am."

He shook his head. "And I didn't even know you existed until about two weeks ago." I grinned, before he spoke again.

"But seriously. Any age?"

"I once saw on your Facebook page some 50-odd years woman, who said she wished she was younger so she could chase after you." I laughed aloud at his disgusted face.

"Okay, that's just creepy."

"Well, when I'm fifty, I plan to be every bit as crazy about you." I winced at the words leaving my mouth. Shit. He wasn't ready for that commitment!

Thankfully, he only smiled, and raised our joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of my hand.

"Honestly, Sammy, I don't see how I can NOT be as crazy about you as I am right now when I'm seventy." I smiled even as my heart cooed in pleasure. _Awhh, what a sweetheart._

_"_You're so sweet, Timmy," I whispered. He smiled.

"As are you, love." I smiled in the warm, love-filled silence for a moment.

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Someplace special in San Francisco. There's something I want to show you." I raised my eyebrow. So, okay, that was mysterious. I shrugged it off; I trusted Timmy with everything I had.

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><p>We walked into the restaurant, and I gasped aloud. It was one of those fancy places, where you dined by candlelight and the waiters addressed you as "sir" and "madam". Timmy looked at me, eyes soft, and smiled, wrapping an arm around my waist. I curled slightly into his touch.<p>

"Two tonight, sir and madam?" Tim nodded, and the formally dressed waiter gave a bow before thoughtfully leading us to a quiet area in the back of the restaurant.

"This would be satisfactory, I hope?" We both nodded, and slid into the booths. The table in front of us had a pristine white cloth draped over it, and on our plates stood pink cloth napkins, extraordinarily folded.

"I feel underdressed," I murmured, looking anxiously at the other women sitting on bar stools, one in a gorgeous dark blue cocktail dress. I was sitting abashedly in my sweats, with my hair in a messy bun.

He smiled. "You look beautiful to me," he murmured, before sliding out of his side of the booth, and instead taking a spot beside me. Leaning down, he whispered in my ear.

"Tell me about yourself." He pressed his lips to my throat, causing me to hum in pleasure, and scramble for any train of thought I had left.

"I..."

"How old were you when you had your first kiss?" His lips moved against my throat as he murmured the words. The warmth of his mouth, exploring the skin on my throat, caused a warm feeling to form in the pit of my stomach. I struggled to focus on his words as he continued his distracting actions.

"My...my first kiss?"

"Yeah."

"27." I chucked slightly.

"With who?"

"You." He pulled back, looking slightly shocked. I instantly began to fret. Had I said the wrong thing? Was he freaked out that I had never been kissed before? Did he have something against ruining a girl's purity or whatev-

"I just can't believe," he said, shaking his head, "that no man at your schools, any of them, ever noticed how gorgeous, intelligent, beautiful, and breathtakingly attractive you are."

Predictably, I blushed crimson, cursing myself under my breath for it. Timmy smiled softly.

"I love your blush," he murmured, brushing a hand down my cheek. I smiled, already predicting an amazing night.

"What about you?" I asked, snuggling into his side. He wrapped an arm around me, making me smile.

"What about me?"

"First kiss."

He looked slightly ashamed. "Fourteen. To a girl I didn't even like." He shook his head in wonder. "Her friends convinced me to do it." I chuckled.

"And you didn't count that girl - what was her name? - holding a sign outside the dugout that asked you to give her her first kiss, and you kissed her on the cheek." I grinned.

"Kisses on the cheek don't count! I never even knew her name. I only did it because Zito and the other guys would've never let me live it down if I didn't." He raised an eyebrow. "I would've given a real kiss if it'd been you holding that sign."

I smirked. "Being quite the charmer, I see."

"Trying," he told me with a wink.

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><p><strong>Sorry about this chapter - not my best, I don't think. But oh well, here's the update!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys. I'm really sorry about the lack of updates - my only excuse is school. :P I have four important tests coming up, and I just took one today - but anyway, here's your update! :D**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

After a few delightful days spent entirely with Timmy, roaming San Francisco, it was the day of Kristen's picnic party. My boyfriend was going to pick me up in an hour, and I had no clue what to wear. After pacing back and forth for a bit, I finally got up the guts to walk over to the phone, pick it up, and dial the number I'd considered calling for a while.

"Hello?" Posey's voice spoke through my cell phone, which was the only thing I'd bothered to set up - other than wi-fi, of course - in my apartment.

"Hey, Buster. It's me, Sammy."

"Hey, Sam. What's up?"

I chewed my lip slightly with anxiety. "Can I talk to Kristen for a sec?"

"Sure, give me a moment." I could hear steps echoing away from the phone, and a call of "Kristen! Sammy wants to talk to you!" resounding in the Posey house. Steps rushed back to the phone, and I prepared myself for talking to the superstar's charming wife.

"Hey, Sammy, darling!" she chirped enthusiastically into the phone, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Kristen. I was just getting ready for the party, but I've never been to anything like this before, so.. I'm not exactly sure of the..."

"Dress code?" she provided helpfully. I nodded, before remembered that she couldn't see me.

"Yeah. Is it more of... classy, or more casual?" She chuckled, but not in an offensive way. She was simply a happy-go-lucky person.

"I guess you'd call it classy-casual. Some might wear casual dresses, others simply jeans. Wear what's comfortable for you, dear."

"Okay, thanks, Kristen. See you there!"

"Bye, darling." I sighed with relief as I hung up the phone. My hands were trembling slightly - I'd never really been good on the phone. I didn't know why - I was comfortable talking to people in person, but just not speaking into a metal device pressed to my ear. I guess it was just a weird thing about me.

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><p>"Come on in, it's unlocked," I called as I heard the knock on the front door. I was standing in front of my mirror, carefully braiding my hair.<p>

"Sam?" Timmy called from the front entryway. I hear the door closing behind him, and smiled to myself.

"I'm in my bedroom," I called back, and heard his footsteps approach before I saw his form in the mirror, standing behind me.

"Hello, darling," he murmured, kissing my neck as he hugged my from behind. I smiled as I leaned into his embrace, staring into his eyes from the mirror.

With a quick twist, I secured my final braid with a hairband from my wrist.

"There we go," I muttered. "Now I can do this properly." I turned around in his arms, wrapped mine around his neck, and pulled him down to my height to kiss him. He sighed into my mouth, open against his, flicking his tongue lightly against mine before pulling back.

"I love you, Sam," he whispered, as I rested my head against his chest.

"Love you more," I said with a smile. He laughed.

"I don't think that's even possible," he confessed, and I smiled softly, my heart melting once again.

"You're too sweet, Timmy," I murmured, and he kissed my nose lightly.

"So are you, love."

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><p>We walked into the huge doors with the Giants logo on them together, Tim's arm curled almost protectively around me. As we walked, I couldn't help looking around.<p>

"So this is where you go every time the Giants steal you from me?" I teased, although there was a note of awe in my voice. He looked around as though seeing it for the first time.

"It's not much, actually," he said in a dismissive tone, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Timmy, darling, there's very few people who actually get to set foot in here. I'm insanely jeaous of you, seeing as you're one of them."

He shrugged in response. "So's Pablo, Buster, Matt, Mark, and the other guys." Thinking of the rest of the team, I brightened up.

"So I'm seriously going to meet Brandon Crawford? And the newbie, Steve Edlefsen?"

"Yeah." Was it just me, or was Tim's voice somewhat unusally blunter than it normally was? I pushed the thought out of my mind, a little spring being added to my step as the light at the end of the tunnel (literally) began to shine in front of us. When we were about ten feet from the dugout entrance, Tim stopped suddenly, tugging on my hand lightly.

I turned to him, and was in the middle of "Hmm?" when I was pressed against the wall firmly, Timmy's mouth on mine. I melted under his touch, sighing as my arms came up to wrap around his neck lightly, and play with the ends of his hair. When he pulled back, we were both breathing slightly harder than normal.

"Remember, Sammy," he murmured, nibbling my neck lightly, "You're mine."

I sighed dreamily.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sammy's POV:**

With one final embrace, we walked onto the field, going our separate ways. Timmy headed to join the rest of the Giants nearer to home plate, where they were taking a few swings, whereas I headed over to the approximate location of the on-deck circle, where Kristen was setting up something like a buffet picnic. She looked up at my approaching footsteps, and smiled brightly.

"Afternoon, Sammy," she chirped, and I smiled back.

"Hey, Kristen. Is there anything I could do to help?" She laughed, and shook her head.

"Thank you, but I'm almost done. Go on and socialize with the others, I'll be there in a sec." I nodded, and obediently sat down where the other women were sitting on a picnic blanket in front of the dugout. Heads turned as I approached, and despite friendly smiles, I felt shy and out-of-place.

"And it's the Freak's girl," someone announced with a cheery grin. I smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Sam." As I spoke, I sat down, back to the dugout fence, and watched batting practice in the empty stadium.

"I'm Summer Ross." The voice was the same that had called out upon my initial approach, and I grinned.

"Cody's wife, then." She nodded proudly. Likewise, everyone introduced themselves, and I was enveloped quickly into the gossiping huddle.

"Look at that swing," I couldn't help but murmur as Pablo splashed one into right field. Kristen, who had just joined us, grinned.

"Not a bad one, but Buster's is better," she bragged good-naturedly with a wink.

"It's a shame Pablo doesn't have a significant other present to defend his swing." someone teased. I grinned.

"I'll stand for him," I joked. "Every player has to be jealous of his swing. I bet Buster can't hit homers from the lefty box, now can he?"

"Buster!" Kristen called, turning away to motion her husband over. Loyally, he obeyed. "Buster, do you think Bochy would mind if you tried to hit a homer or two left-handed? Please?" The rookie catcher glanced at us women, clearly catching on that there was a little wager going on. He laughed.

"Why not?" he asked, and walked back to take his spot in the line waiting for swings. After he was out of earshot, a light chuckle ran around the ring.

"You know who really made an entrance to the season? Brandon Crawford." Everyone murmured their approval.

"A grand slam home run to win the game five to four, in his first major league game. Who tops that?" I grinned.

"Hey, I thought you were Timmy's girlfriend, not Brandon's!" said a woman who I identified to be Torres' wife, despite not knowing her name. That caused another round of laughter.

"Speaking of Timmy... what's he like?" someone else asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

"What do you mean?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Well, he isn't called "the Freak" for nothing." When a wink was directed my way, I finally got the innuendo, and blushed bright red.

"We.. we haven't.." I stammered, embarrassed, and they all chuckled, and launched into gossip about how good their respective partners were in bed. Not wanting too much of the dirty conversation, I focused my attention on the swings of respective players. I was dying to grab a somewhat light bat, and take a few hacks of my own, but I didn't dare interrupt Bochy's practice. Instead, I settled for analyzing each player's swing, and mentally comparing it to mine.

"Do you play?" someone asked from beside me. I turned, to see that it was Summer.

"Yeah, in college ball," I replied with a smile. She laughed.

"Well, that explains why Timmy's so crazy about you. I don't think he's ever dated a player before." We both laughed, before falling into a short, comfortable silence.

"Who's your favorite on the team? Besides Cody, of course." I asked.

She smiled. "I think it would have to be Andres - I mean, look at the man! - but I wouldn't tell his wife, nor Cody that," she replied. "Yours?"

"Gotta be Crawford. If Timmy weren't on the team, he'd be my favorite." I grinned. "I asked Timmy if he'd mind introducing me around, and he said sure."

"He wasn't all that thrilled about it, though, was he?" Summer asked with a knowing grin. I frowned slightly in thought.

"Not exactly. How would you know?"

"That little show he put on, for one. It was an evident claim to you, in front of all the guys."

"You could see us?" I asked, slightly taken aback. It had seemed somewhat far back from the entrance.

"From home plate, you could," she responded with a wink. I sighed, shaking my head with a little laugh.

"In a way," I mused, "that's actually really sweet of him." Summer laughed.

"It's not just Timmy who's got the love bug," she joked, and we both laughed.

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><p>Shortly after, the women began to drift closer to home plate to mingle with the team members as they finished, and I walked over to Timmy as he finished his mandatory swings.<p>

"Can I see that?" I asked, motioning to his bat. He handed it to me, a pale color to the wood. I examined it, before stepping back and lightly swinging with it.

"Not bad," I murmured, handing it back.

Tim glanced back at home plate. Everyone on the team had taken their swings and were now heading over to Kristen's food supply, spilling over five card tables that were side-by-side.

"Come with me," he murmured, pulling my hand, and I followed him over to where Bochy was standing.

"Mind if Sammy swings?" my boyfriend asked his coach. "I'll throw to her. Lightly."

"Don't hurt your arm," the coach replied, and Tim handed me his bat and batting gloves. As I wrestled them on, he walked to the pitcher's mound, where a bucket of baseballs was placed behind a net. I stepped into the box, and the first pitch came. As he promised, it was soft-toss, but being unaccustomed to the smaller target, I missed. I gritted my teeth, and readied myself for a next. This time, however, I didn't miss. The ball flew into center field, but not quite far enough to get out of the range of an easy catch.

We continued this for a while, before Bochy kicked us off and herded us over to the picnic table. As promised, Tim led me to Brandon Crawford, and I couldn't help blushing as I talked to him, because of my boyfriend's arm securely around my waist. Somehow, Brandon and I became fair friends, despite the fact that the relationship was clearly to be platonic. At some point, Timmy drifted off to talk to Righetti, while Brandon introduced me to the Panda, and of course, the Boss, and we stood around, chatting happily. By the time Timmy and I left the stadium, hand in hand, I had three new contacts in my phone.

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><p><strong>Somewhat boring chapter. Well, anyway, it's here. :P<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**Sammy' POV:**

We buckled ourselves into Timmy's sports car in silence. Glancing at the clock, I sighed. Today was my last day with Timmy before the next homestand, and the day was already gone.

"Why the sigh?" my boyfriend asked from beside me.

"It's already six," I murmured sadly. This was usually the time we parted, and I was beginning to miss my boyfriend before he was even gone.

Timmy glanced over at me, green eyes smoldering before he turned his attention back to the highway looming ahead of us. I silently cursed the road for robbing me of the gaze that I loved so much.

"Come back to the hotel with me," he said softly. I sat frozen for a moment in shock.

"But... but you've got to rest for your travel day tomorrow," I protested, despite the fact that every cell in my body yearned to agree. What if it leaked to the media, and he blamed me for it? What if the team made fun of him for it? What if he regretted it?

Timmy was scoffing at my feeble protest.

"I'll get plenty of rest tomorrow, on the plane," he pointed out. I thought for another moment.

"But don't you room with Zito?" I asked.

"I can get a separate room, ask Zito to head out, or we can go to your place, if you want. Although, if you're truly concerned for my rest, it's more convenient to go to the hotel." Damn it, he had me there.

"Of course I'm concerned for your well-being," was all I could come up with. Timmy sighed, clearly exasperated.

"Look, Sam, if you don't want to spend the night with me, just say so. We won't even ... do anything, if you don't want to. Sammy, I just want to fall asleep and wake up beside you. Please. I'm not gonna see you for the next few weeks, can we spend as much time together as possible? Please?"

His sincere words disarmed me, and more than ever I wanted to go with him. Sighing, I figured I'd just be blunt.

"Timmy, you know very well that I'd like you go with you more than anything, but... I just can't work without a full night's sleep, and I can't afford to miss a day."

Pulling into the parking lot of the Giants' choice hotel, Tim stopped the car and looked at me with the most emotion in the depth of his green eyes that I'd ever seen.

"Please," was all he said, and I could not resist.

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><p>He led me through the hallways, which were gold-decorated and posh, I noted with some disdain. I knew that it was picked by the Giants, not my boyfriend, but I couldn't help feeling out-of-place. This was the sort of place I would only be able to afford after taking double shifts at the library for a year. He opened the door, and inside Barry Zito glanced up from where he's been reclining on the bed. Seeing me, following Tim into the room, he jumped up, turning off the TV. As he moved, I noticed a faint slosh. Originating from the bed... ?<p>

"I was just going to join the party in Wilson's room," he said. His face was particularly convincing for someone who had just scrambled up an excuse. "Remote's on the side table, Tim." As he passed, he clapped the pitcher on the back, and nodded to me with a smile. As the door shut behind me, I released Timmy's hand as he turned to face me.

I took a step forward. "Are those things freaking _water beds?_" I exclaimed, and without waiting for an answer, launched myself into one. The waves under my back confirmed my suspicion, and I sighed in pleasure, closing my eyes. Timmy laughed, before joining my side on the king-sized bed. I snuggled into his side, and kissed him, already drowsy with the lapping of the waves. He kissed me back smoothly, and we laid there for a moment before I rolled over, aligning myself onto my back again. From the side table, I grabbed the remote that, sure to his word, Zito had left laying there.

"What sorts of movies do you have on this thing?" I asked, pressing the power button, and randomly flipping through channels. I felt Tim move closer to my side, and pull the blankets over us. I sighed, and tilted my head to kiss the angle of his jaw lightly. He sighed in pleasure, and smiled down at me, eyes soft. He bent down, pressing his lips to my collarbone, and nibbling slightly as my hand came up to stroke his hair.

"Breaking Dawn?" he whispered against my skin. I rolled my eyes.

"Boring."

"What do you like to watch, then?" His head came up, looking at me expectantly.

I grinned. "Pirates of the Carribean - Johnny Depp's hot - or Harry Potter. Just 'cause it's awesome." Timmy grinned at me.

"Pirates! Those are my favorites! Looks like a Carribean marathon," he said excitedly, winking at me. I laughed, and handed the remote over. Flipping a few channels, he finally did find the first movie. We snuggled a little closer together, his stomach pressing against my side, arm thrown casually across my waist. I kissed him as the opening titles rolled, and so began our movie marathon night together.

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><p><strong>Thousands of thanks to my ONLY consistent reviewer on this story, The American Idiot. :D She's awesome, go check out her profile, PM her, etc. (:<strong>

**Oh, and on another note - I was rereading this story from the beginning last night, and I noticed how many inconsistencies there were - especially between the scores of the same game, between chapters 1&2. LOL. Well, hopefully there haven't been THAT many obvious ones. :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Sammy's POV:**

I rubbed my still-closed eyes with sleepy fingers, before simply deciding to roll over and go back to sleep. I flopped over onto my right shoulder, and my palm smacked something stiff.

"Oof," came the grunt from beside me. Startled, my eyes flew open, and I became conscious of green ones, equally awake, staring right back at me. I could feel the blush of mortification creeping onto my cheeks, and I glanced down at my hand. I realized with an acute rush of relief that it had landed on Tim's abs, not ... anywhere else.

"Good morning," he chuckled, smiling softly as his hand covered mine, still resting on his stomach. I bit my lip anxiously, still feeling my cheeks flaming. I could feel his stomach expanding with every breath - and he wasn't in bad shape at all...

"Morning," I managed to mumble back. I would've proceded to move my hand, but his finger had laced through mine as he stared up at the ceiling.

"I should wake up like this more often," he mused, apparently lost in thought.

"What, with me punching you in the stomach?" I joked feebly. He smiled, but answered the rhetorical question anyway.

"No, just... having you there. It's a pretty incredible feeling to wake up next to the girl you're in love with." I smiled as the nervous butterflies returned to their home in my stomach.

"Although," he added on second though, "There's one more thing needed to make this morning perfect."

"What?" I asked, curious. Instead of responding, Tim leaned over, and pressed his mouth to mine for a long moment. When he pulled back, we were both breathing slightly harder than normal.

"That," he said with a smile.

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><p>"Come in," called the manager of the Giants franchise. The door to his office opened, and in stepping the pitching, shutting the door softly behind him. He looked nervous, shuffling from side to side in his loose, grey sweats.<p>

"Have a seat, Tim." Bruce Bochy motioned to one of the comfy leather sofas that dominated most of the room. He sat, looking on edge even slumped in the couch, half buried in pillows. Without saying a word, Bochy looked expectantly at his player, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"There's this girl," he began slowly. "And ... Boch, I'm in love with her."

The head coach nodded. Unlike other coaches, he tried to be more of a father figure to his players.

"Have you told her yet?"

"Yeah, I have. And she said it back, and.. I'm going to propose to her." He said it with finality, as though the words condemned him to a death sentence.

"Congratulations, Tim," Bruce said with a grin, standing up and walking around to clap his pitcher on his shoulder.

"But I just.. I can't focus without her anymore. Which is why I'm going to propose." He looked up timidly at the looming figure above him, and Bochy knew what was coming.

"You want me to let her come with you." Lincecum nodded in confirmation.

"She plays softball, so... Not long term. Just when she can get out... Can she share my room?"

With a small smile, the coach noticed how agitated Timmy looked. He was nearly squirming with anxiety - this girl definitely meant the world to him. Without hesitation, he nodded. He could remember back when he went to his coach with a similar expression, squirming over his girlfriend.

"Thanks, Coach." Tim grinned, all nervous energy drained from his body as he leapt up.

"Now, Tim. Don't you forget my rules about sharing rooms before game day - "

"I won't, Coach. Thanks again!" He bounded out, a new leap in his step to rejoin practice.

Bruce stood for a moment, watching Tim run by his window on the way out to the field. He chucked to himself, and sat back down. Oh, the days of young love.

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><p><strong>Sorry, a really short chapter today. I just felt like I should get this out, since it's been sitting here for a while. (: Anyways, enjoy!<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey Guys, sorry that I haven't uploaded in a while ... I know I'm losing tons of fans, not that I had that many to begin with anyway! (: I've been experiencing writer's block, and only recently decided where to go with this.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

"So...whadya say? I'll pick you up," he offered. Tim's voice was as shy as though he was asking a girl out for the first time. I smiled, doing a mental "awww."

"Sure, Timmy. You know I'd go out with you anytime," I laughed.

"Yeah, well... I just wanted to check with your schedule and stuff..." I could almost see him blush, and chuckled.

"You'll pick me up, you said? Is four o' clock from my place okay for you?"

"Yeah, sure. Anytime, anywhere."

"Cool." I smiled. "Is it even worth asking where we're going?"

I was rewarded with a laugh from the other side of the line.

"Nope. You'll see." I groaned as he said the words I despised, and he laughed again.

"Good night, Sammy. I love you."

"I love you too."

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><p>I sang along to the lines as I briefly picked up the sweaters lying around as I waited for the doorbell to ring.<p>

"You're just a daydream away... I wouldn't know what to say.. If I had you-uu..."

I laughed to myself, shaking my head slightly.

"Samatha, you're getting pathetic. Stop it," I muttered to myself, but I still couldn't stop the smile plastered to my face.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and I dropped the sweatshirt that was half-on the hangar, practically running to the door. As I screeched to a halt in the entryway, I took a deep breath, smoothed down my hair, and casually opened the door.

The figure on the other side grinned at me, and the responding grin slipped right back into place.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Hey, Tim." I stretched up for a kiss, and he pecked me gently, sweetly, before stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

"Why is it that you always wear a hood?" I asked, tilting my head to the side curiously.

"Huh?" Tim looked back at me, startled. "My hood? I don't know exactly... I guess it's because the whole celebrity thing gets overwhelming at times, and it's sort of a security blanket. No one's ever asked me that before," he added, looking at me strangely.

I shrugged, and and smilled. "I was curious. Besides, I notice the subtle things."

Tim smiled back at me, and flipped his hood off.

"Now I can do this properly," he said, and bent down to capture my lips in a longer lasting kiss.

After a few blissful minutes, he pulled back, and smiled at me, eyes soft.

"We'd better get going," he pointed out, and I nodded. Holding hands, we headed out to his silver CLS 55, and he opened the passenger door just as I got there, bowing.

"After you, milady," he said in a not-very-good accent. I laughed, slipping in, and buckled my seatbelt as he walked around to his side and got in. As he turned the engine on, I glanced sideways at him.

"Any point in asking now..?"

He laughed again. "Still, the answer is no."

"What can I bribe you with?" I joked.

"Don't get into the habit of bribing people, love - umps don't take kindly to it," he joked back. We continued to banter back and forth as we approached an intersection. Tim eased onto the brake at the stoplight, and then started up again.

"What makes you think - " I began, but was stopped by the sight of Tim's wide eyes. Suddenly, he yanked the wheel sharply to the left, and I was thrown against the door as we spun, tires squealing as we pulled a spin. Then, there was a crash, the sound of glass shattering, and people screaming.

"Tim? Timmy?" I asked frantically. "What happened? Tim? Timmy!" Hysterical sobs were being to come out from my mouth as the figure next to me remained slouched. Frantically, I gripped his arm, reassuring myself that his body was still warm, that he was still alive. In my frantic state, I didn't think to get out of the car, which I could faintly feel heating up.

"Tim! Timmy!" I started sobbing as I clutched his arm. "Oh, God, Tim... Tim, answer me!" The next thing I knew, my door was opened, and strong arms ripped me away from my love as I fought, sobbing as I blindly clawed at what was holding me. Strong hands on my shoulders spun me to face a man, a good few feet taller than me. I could barely make out his face through my tears.

"Ma'm, you need to stay back. The EMT's have him now." The fireman pointed, and gasping shallowly, tears still pouring from my eyes, I turned and looked. My heart broke at the sight of him being strapped ontp the stretcher, and all the strength seemed to seep from my bones.

"Oh, Timmy.." I moaned, sinking to the ground.

"Ma'm, are you alright?" I nodded impatiently, he was the one who was hurt, not me! I brushed away some of the tears, despite the ever oncoming flow.

"Is - is he alive? Is he breathing?" I looked pleadingly at the fireman. All that mattered to me was the life of my boyfriend; without him, I was nothing.

"Right now, he is. He's going straight onto emergency life support. If you can keep calm and let the paramedics do their job, you can ride with him in case he wakes up." I nodded quickly at the sternly raised eyebrow, and rose from the concrete.

"One more thing, sir.." I said, attempting to appear at least somewhat sane. "What exactly happened?"

He looked apprehensive.

"We're not sure right now, miss. All we know is that a car blew the stop sign, going more or less twenty miles above the speed limit. We suspect he was driving under influence, and was killed at impact. He was going to hit the passenger side, but somehow your boyfriend spun so that it hit his side instead of the passenger."

He looked expectantly at me while I disgested that, and when I had no further questions, nodded and walked off.

"Ma'm," a new voice piped from behind me. "We're going to the emergency room now, if you want to ride." I nodded and sniffled, and climbed into the back in front of the paramedic, who closed the doors behind him as we sped off.

* * *

><p><strong>Cliffhanger! Haha. <strong>

**So, a brief comment here - if any of you have ever been on Wattpad, I highly recommend it. Great fiction stories, all original. I really want to post one of my own on it.. but I'm not sure of a plot line of any sort. (: It must be all-original, romance is preferred for my writing style, and I'd love it if you guys could suggest some inspiration for me.**

**Thanks, guys!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Sammy's POV:**

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

The constant beeping of the heart rate monitor was on the verge of putting me to sleep, despite the fact that I had nothing more comfortable than a hard, plastic hospital chair, and my Timmy's hand in mine. Sighing with resolve, I straightened up, and leaned forward to kiss his brow, as I had done hundreds of times more earlier that day, and the day before that, and the day before that. I didn't know whether it had only been days that had passed, or weeks. However, I knew that when I got around to checking it, my phone would be exploding with hundreds of texts, calls, emails from coaches and friends, teachers with whom I'd missed appointments. But what could I say? My boyfriend was in a coma, there was no way I was leaving him until absolutely neccessary.

The door began to creak open, and I turned, waiting for the next nurse come to check on his tubes, bustling in and out quickly. To my surprise, it was a smaller man, casually dressed, who I instantly recognized as Tim Lincecum's father, Chris. Looking between the two of them, I could easily see the family resemblance - both had small, lithe builds, and it was clear where Tim had gotten his green eyes from.

I leapt to my feet, dropping my dear boyfriend's hand.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lincecum. If you want private time... " I trailed off as he shook his head, putting his hand out instead.

"Call me Chris. I'm pleased to meet you. You must be Sammy...?" I nodded confirmation as I reached out to shake his hand. He took it for a second, somber eyes looking down at me, and laughed to himself.

"This is too formal," he declared, and pulled me into a hug instead.

"Tim's told me about you," he said as he pulled back. "You seem like a wonderful woman, and already I can tell why you were so special to him. He's never raved about a girl like that before," he smiled ruefully. His eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled, giving a clear image of his what his attractiveness must have been as a younger man. Then he sighed as he looked past me, to his son lying on the bed. He took three quick steps to the bedside, and sat down in the chair I had previously occupied, taking the hand I had previously held, stroking Timmy's forehead, just as I had previously done. I gulped, feeling the private moment, and tried to inconspicuously edge towards the door. Chris noticed, and shook his head, yanking another cheap chair towards him with his free hand. He pointed at it, and as I saw no escape, I walked back over to it and sat down.

"I doubt that you leaving right now would do him any good," he said in a low voice. "From the first time he talked about you, I knew there was something special."

"He talked about me?" I asked, surprised. Despite the sorrowful situation, with Tim ashen-faced in his coma on the bed, my heart lifted slightly, remembering his love and charm.

"Yeah. First time he called me after a game to talk about something other than his mechanics." He gazed at his youngest son's face lovingly, and it was obvious that there was a connection between Tim and Chris, a connection that went beyond simply a coach-athlete relationship, or a parent-child relationship, or any combination of the two. It was as though they were close friends, as though Chris was Tim's confidant in addition to coach, parent, and fan.

There was a moment of wistful silence between us, both of us remembering the man we knew. No, I thought to myself, not remembering, but reminiscing. He wasn't dead. He couldn't die. One day he would wake up, and we would pick up from exactly where we left off, like nothing had ever happened.

"He was willing to die to save your life." I turned to look at the face beside me, but Chris's face was focused on his son on the bed. "He could've died. He still might. He knew that, but he still did all he could in that car crash to make sure you were okay."

I chewed my lip nervously at his words. Was he mad that his son was willing to give his own life for a girl? No, not just a girl, a girl who had no money to speak of, no high connections, no fame?

Chris looked sideways at me. "You know, I trust that, Sammy. I trust my son's good judgement. If he thought there was something worth saving in you, I trust that. Obviously you didn't get out unscated yourself," he added, gesturing to my broken left arm, set in a cast and sling, "but it was a lot better than it could've been. I hope -" His voice broke. "I hope he lives through it to show me, and give me a daughter."

Close to tears, he rose suddenly and strode from the room, his face stony. I stared after him as the door swung back into place with a _click._ Had I heard him properly? He was hoping to get a daughter, thanks to Tim... and the only way that could be would be if Tim married -

I cut the train of thought off instantly. No point in getting my hopes up over something that was likely not to happen. I moved closer to his bed again, and picked up the hand resting on the mattress. I pulled it gently to my lips, and kissed the back, lightly.

"I love you, Tim," I whispered to him, resting my head on the side of the bed, next to his. Scarcely after my head hit the mattress, I was asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Timmy's POV:**

I slowly became aware of a pounding headache, and instinctively attempted to scrunch my eyes against the pain. To my surprise, I found that my eyelids were like leaden weights, unable to be moved either up or down. I quickly took stock of my body, and felt the same feeling throughout all of my limbs. With a mental raised eyebrow, I realized that the feeling was akin to being drugged - like waking up sober after being high. Yes, the marijuana incident was surely the worst mistake of my life, but I didn't remember repeating that mistake.

Which left one answer: I was in the hospital.

Focusing my memories, I tried to remember the last clear day. Everything seemed fuzzy in my brain, like how you forget what you had for dinner three or four days ago. However, this was planned to be the happiest day of my life, I was damned if I didn't remember it. I could remember the entire day, from when I would take her to meet my dad and brother, giving her a proper introduction to the most important people in my life - besides her, of course. I could remember how I'd planned it perfectly - I'd take her outdoors, maybe to the stadium again, a reminder how how we first met. And then I'd sweep her off her feet, with me dropping to a knee and presenting the elegant diamond that I had tucked into my pocket, styled perfectly for her, for my Sammy.

Only one thing was missing - her reaction. I went back over the memories, tried to discern where reality stopped and my imagination began. It took me a while, as I'd daydreamed this day for so long, but finally I realized that I remembered opening the door for her, my heart clanging in my chest, and then the heart-stopping moment where I'd thought I would lose her. In the car crash.

Frantically, I forced my eyes open. Where was she? I stared at the pristine white ceiling for a second, collecting my bearings. Without moving my head, I slid my eyes to the left, and realized that the wall was about two feet from the edge of my bed. No room for a chair, then. Grimacing, I forced my head to roll to my right, resulting in an explosion of pain through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let them stay that way, despite the painkillers threatening to drag me under. When the pain had subsided, I slowly opened my eyes again, and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her brown hair, framing her face, even as she slept. My relief at seeing her, alive and well, overshadowed the jolt of pain I felt in my ribs at the breath. I opened my mouth to whisper her name in relief, to tell her I loved her, but no sound came out. I closed my mouth again, and focused on stretching that arm, my right arm, towards her, those last few inches to touch her hair, to stroke her beautiful face.

When she was asleep, she looked so innocent... So peaceful, like an angel.

I gritted my teeth, focusing all my energy on my arm, which felt as though it were not only made of iron weights, but tied down to the bed, as well. I felt the fabric slide, and my arm slipped an inch closer. Determined, I slid it closer again.. and again.. until I could reach out, and rest my hand on her head.

Now, as a pitcher, I had been trained to suppress emotion, to be in control of myself at all times. However, my relief at seeing her - alive - was too great. No matter how I tried to keep it in, my eyes welled in gratitude.

* * *

><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I could feel myself drifting towards the surface, as though underwater, deep in sleep. As I was poured back into my body, I blinked sleepily, and yawned. I rolled my neck to the side, cramped from sleeping in the awkward position of stretched out, with only my chin on the mattress. My action caused something to roll off my head, and instantly awake, my eyes flashed to the figure on the bed. As the green eyes I had missed so much met mine, I felt a jolt and my eyes began to tear, matching his own shining orbs. I reached out to cradle his face gently, feeling as though I were in a dream.

"Oh, Timmy," I whispered, bending down to kiss his forehead. "Oh, Tim, love, I thought I'd lost you." Tears began to roll down my face, and his eyes darted to them, and back up to eyes, unable to do anything. I smiled, picking up his hand, and wiping my tears. He smiled back, and opened his mouth, attempting to croak something out. I shook my head firmly, and put my hand over his mouth.

"Don't talk, love. You've been out of it for weeks. In fact," I got up as a new thought struck me, not letting go of his hand, "I should call the nurse."

It was truly a stretch, reaching over to press the button on the far table without letting go of Tim's hand, nor dragging him off the bed, for that matter. I wasn't sure how I managed it, but somehow I did, returned to sit back in my usual seat, reaching out every few seconds to brush his hair back, to trace his lips, or simply to touch him, still disbelieving that he was actually alive.

A few minutes later, a nurse bustled in, beaming.

"Oh, look who's awake!" She started changing various tubes, and disconnecting various monitors.

_No freakin' duh,_ I thought to myself. Outwardly, though, I kept my eyes on Tim's, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb. We never broke eye contact until the nurse finished what she was doing, and began to speak in an overly happy manner.

"We're gonna keep you here for a few more days, make sure you're alright, okay? Don't try to talk yet, it'll be a few days on that one, for sure. We'll get you a notepad, though, and in a few days, you'll be good to go!" She added a beam to her chirping voice, and bustled out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, I smiled and stood out of my chair. Leaning over, I put my free hand on his cheek, and kissed his forehead, and then his lips. We stayed connected for a while before I pulled back, a gentle smile on my face.

"Timothy LeRoy Lincecum, I love you."


	19. Chapter 19

**Sammy's POV:**

"Don't even think of trying, love." I whispered when the nurse had walked out. We were sitting side by side on the bed, waiting for her to come back with a wheelchair. From the look on Timmy's face, he clearly was about to protest. However, I was going to be firm on this fact. If the hospital thought he should be wheeled to the car, I wasn't going to argue.

Since he'd been awake, his dad had stopped by, and made sure I knew that anything I needed, anytime I needed help with Tim, he was open. I thanked him for the offer, but I was pretty sure I could handle it myself. Chris had then paused, and spoken in a lower tone.

"Sammy, you know you're part of the family now, right? He may not have proposed yet, but trust me, he will. I've seen him grow up, and I've never seen him this taken with a girl. He literally cannot talk about anything else. And for when he does pop the question, Sammy, we'll all accept you." His little speech had me smiling again, touched. It was truly adorable that Tim thought about me outside of our dates. I had thanked him again.

"But Sammy..." he half-whispered. Tim's voice was starting to come back, but there was a set limit on exactly how much talking he should do. I shook my head, and smiled at him, bending down for a quick kiss. His left arm wrapped around my waist as he exhaled sharply against my lips, and his right arm travelled up my back to tangle in my hair, cupping the back of my neck forcefully. I leaned further into him, bracing myself by putting my arms on the bed beside him, when suddenly a throat was cleared two feet to my right.

I leapt back, blushing automatically as I saw the doctor with the wheelchair. My face burned even more, though, when Chris entered the room behind him. Hopefully, though, he hadn't seen our little session - maybe he would never find out..

My hopes were buried as Chris looked at Tim, an eyebrow raised in mild disapproval, observing how his son's eyes never left me, and how his breathing was slightly elevated, how his movements sliding into the wheelchair were slightly awkward...

Then his eyes slipped to mine, and I smiled sheepishly. To my surprise, he smiled, and shook his head understandingly, before talking resuming his discussion with the doctor.

"... And then he'll need to come back, so we can make sure he's doing fine. Okay?" He waited with a raised eyebrow for the obedient nod from first Chris, then me. With the nod, we wheeled him out, Timmy with the bursting happiness of being released from confinement.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, babe," I murmured, kissing his cheek softly when he opened his eyes to look at me. He simply smiled, green eyes blinking drowsily as he pulled himself slowly to a sitting position, grimacing as he did so. I sat next to him carefully, and slid the tray with his breakfast across to his lap. He stared down at it for a second, then a grin slowly spread over his face as he turned to me.<p>

"You made me breakfast?" I smiled and nodded.

"It's not like I'm going to have you get up now, is it?" He leaned down to kiss me lovingly for a long moment.

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Sammy," he murmured, kissing softly down my jaw. Shivers were stealing down my spine and he trailed kisses across my skin. "You're an angel. I love you so much."

"I love you too, honey," I whispered, lifting my hand to tangle in his hair. After a few more delightful minutes, he pulled back.

"Don't want to let all this good food do to waste," he said, flashing a grin in my direction as he began. "Mmm, Sammy, where'd you learn to cook?"

I shrugged. "Picked it up, I guess. You like it?"

"I love."

After he finished eating, we sat around for a while, kissing and cuddling in the bed, careful of Tim's recovering body. Eventually, we snuggled up together watching the Giants game, his arm wrapped around me as I snuggled into his chest.

"Mmmmm," I sighed happily as his fingers gently ticked up my spine, then down. He kissed his forehead lightly, muttering in approval as Cain struck out another hitter. The next batter hit a double off of him, and Tim's jawline tightened.

"I would've shaken him off there," he muttered. "A 2-1 fastball, no way. No matter where you place that one, it's gonna get whacked." I laughed, reaching up to play with the ends of his hair.

"But Cain lives on his fastball. You live on your change-up."

"So do you, honey," he replied, smiling widely. I laughed, unable to deny it.

"No, I live off you," I joked.

"Not more so than I off of you," he countered.

I shook my head. "No way. I love you."

"I love you more."

"Nuh uh. I do."

"I may have had others," he kissed my nose lightly. "But I've never felt this way before."

"Nor have I," I breathed. "Although then again, I've never had another."

"I wish you were my first," he whispered, and bent to kiss me. "I wish you were my first, and my last."

He took a deep breath.

"I was hoping to ask you this in a much better way... I wanted to take you to meet Dad, and then hand you the plane tickets to Paris, if you agreed to go with me."

"Paris?" I asked, confused.

"The Eiffel Tower," he replied, smiling fondly at me. "I've always felt that gigantic decisions needed a gigantic platform. Not to mention, I've always dreamed of proposing on the Tower."

I gasped, realizing what he was getting at. I guess I'd realized it all along, I was just denying it to prevent myself from being hurt if I was wrong.

"So, Sammy... Will you marry me?"

"Yes," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears even as I broke into a broad grin, "Yes, yes I will."

He grinned. "The ring's in that box on the table," he said, even as he leaned in, eyes on my lips. I didn't bother responding, simply pressed my lips tightly to his and wrapped my arms around his neck. When I pulled away, gasping for air, I couldn't help my curiosity. I glanced at the side table and noticed the blue box sitting there. How had I not noticed it before?

With shaking hands, I pulled it to my lap and opened it slowly, apprehensive, although I knew it was ridiculous. Why was I apprehensive? The man of my dreams had proposed to me, and I was about to look at the ring he'd gotten to offer me. Stop being silly, Sam, I commanded myself, and looked inside.

Inside the box was a glittering diamond of beautiful proportions. I'd never been a jewels girl myself, but Tim had somehow caught my style in the design on the ring. The stone was set simply, simply yet elegant, with intertwining strands and inlaid diamonds around the entire thing. I tilted it from side to side, admiring the shards of light thrown off in every direction.

"Do you like it?" Timmy asked anxiously. I looked over at him - chewing his lip, eyebrows drawn together in the perfect image of nervous fear. I smiled, easing the strain in his face.

"I love it," I whispered, closing my mouth to his once more.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry, I know, it probably does not live up to expectations. :P I also want to apologize for updating so infrequently. I know it's miserable to wait, trust me!<strong>

**Sidenote: Dedicated to that boy at school who doesn't know who he is, he who inspires me so. (:**

**Also a sidenote: This is NOT the last chapter! I'm definitely going to cover the wedding, and I'm not sure if I'm going to throw in some more drama before the end to draw it out or if the next few chapters will the the last. Care to tell me what you think? (:**


	20. Chapter 20

**Kay, well, in the ... two?... reviews I got, none of them said opinions on whether I should throw in extra drama to draw the plot out before the wedding, so heck, I'm making my own choice.**

**A bit of planning, the bachelor/bachelorette parties, the wedding, and maybe a quick epilogue before this is done. Two or three chapters left.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

"Ohmigod," Tessa squealed. "This one's perfect for you, Sammy!"

"You think?" I was suddenly shy, turning left and right in the mirror in the frilly, fluffy dress that was a crystalline white. Tiny beads lined the hem, converging in a V on my chest. As I turned, they threw off tiny shards of light, making the entire dress so much more surreal. I mean, sure, I had imagined my wedding day, planned it out with friends, but I'd never truly prepared for standing here, in front of the ten-foot mirror, trying on wedding dresses with the full intent of using them.

"Sammy, it's your choice, but I think it looks great. I mean, the shape fits you perfectly. Even a prude like you has nothing to complain about!"

Reluctantly, I had to agree. I was indeed a self-admitted prude, but the neckline of the dress dropped enough to be glamorous and tantalizing while still seeming modest and not slutty.

"Alright. I'll take it," I announced. One of the saleswomen standing by skittered off to go begin ringing it up, and the other bustled over to help me take it off.

"Hey, Tessa, grab my phone from my purse, will you?" She grabbed my shoulder bag that served as a purse, and rifled through it until she triumphantly found my iPhone and handed it to me. I checked off the "Wedding Dress" checkmark, and grinned as I looked at the next one.

Phew. The personal torture of trying on dresses was over - now it was Tessa's turn. Although, knowing her, she was probably going to enjoy it.

* * *

><p>I collapsed onto the coach, kicking my heels off and rubbing my sore feet as I groaned in agony.<p>

"What on earth was wrong with the first bouquet shop, Tess?" I exclaimed.

"Too cheap." She flipped her blond locks behind her head and sat down next to me, looking as though she had no intention of taking off her own heels.

"And what is wrong with cheap?" I asked, affronted. Almost my entire apartment was designed around "cheap".

"Oh, nothing, nothing, but you're marrying one of the richest men on the planet. Might as well make your wedding flashy."

"First off, Tim is nowhere near the richest on the planet. He makes more money than I could dream of, obviously, but there's always Bill Gates, or Steve Jobs, or -"

"Honey, Steve Jobs is dead."

"He was still rich before he died! Anyway," I continued as she opened her mouth to protest. "Secondly, his personality is so much more amazing than his riches. If he were broke, I'd still be in love with him. 'In sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse..."

I trailed off, replaying the moment in my mind as he asked me to be his wife, gorgeous green eyes sparkling. He may not have been on one knee, but I was lucky enough to still have him alive, still have him able to whisper those three words into my ear, sending delightful shivers down my spine.

Tessa was smiling softly at me, green-blue eyes shining.

"You really are in love, aren't you," she mused. "So this is what it's like..."

"Love? Of course I'm in love, I'm marrying the man. The man of my dreams..."

"Okay, okay, enough with the lovey stuff," she cut in, laughing. "Want to call the caterers, begin invitations, or save all that till tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow!" I gasped eagerly. She chuckled to herself, rising to her full height. She was considered about average in general, but to me, she was nearly a head taller.

"Okay, bright and early tomorrow then. Seven?" I sighed.

"Do I have to?" I whined. "I'm not a morning person. You know that, Tess."

She raised her eyebrow. "Do you want to get married next month?"

I raised my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you win. Tomorrow at seven, I'll see you then."

Timmy and I had planned our wedding to correspond with our birthday - since we shared the same birthday, we figured it would be symbolic if our wedding was celebrated on our birthday. Not to mention, that would be the best birthday present ever.

When the door had shut behind Tessa, I let out a sigh of relief, and grabbed my phone, dialing the number I knew by heart. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, love. How was dress shopping?"

"Ugh," I groaned, and he laughed. "I should rephrase. Did you find the dress?"

"Yep," I chirped happily. "And you don't get to see it for another month."

"That's so not fair," Tim complained. I could practically hear his adorable pout through the phone. "You've seen me in a tux, and I don't get to see you in a dress until the wedding day?"

I giggled. "I've only seen you in a tux on T.V., and besides, how do I know what your wedding day tux will look like?"

"Then can you wear a different dress that I can see?" His voice was teasing, and still hopeful and the same time.

"Sorry, darling, I honestly don't own one."

"Can I still come over?"

"Please do, babe. You know I can't sleep without you anymore."

"I'll be over in five. I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

><p><strong>Just to clear things up, they haven't slept together as in, sleeping together. They've slept together as in slept in the same bed, been asleep in one another's arms.<strong>

**Reviews appreciated, hope you enjoy - I know this one was a bit slow. (:**


	21. Chapter 21

**Sammy's POV:**

The trilling of my cell phone on the bedside table was vibrating through my brain, causing me to groan aloud. I clamped a pillow over my head and rolled over, reaching for Tim. When my hand hit nothing but cold sheets, I raised my head. Another ring of the cell phone finally cut through to my consciousness, and I stretched to the bedside table to pick it up.

"'Ello?" I mumbled, flopping back into my pillows. The bed felt so much bigger, so much colder without my fiancee.

"Rise and shine, sunshine!" Tessa's voice was chirpy, almost ridiculously so at such an early hour. I sighed and rolled out of bed, walking to the window. I pulled open the shades, and blinked.

"Isn't the sun supposed to rise in... I don't know, two freakin' hours?" I griped, dropping back into bed and burrowing under the blankets.

"Honey, you can't sleep. We've got to make the final preparations, because tomorrow, there's no _way _that we're going to be in a state to do them." Her voice was giddy with excitement.

"Why are you so excited? It's just a bachelorette party. We go out, get so drunk we can't see straight, go to sleep and wake up with a killer hangover." I sighed; I really wasn't looking forward to it. I had never actually gotten drunk before, but from what I'd read and seen of my friends, it was sure not fun.

Tessa gasped in horror. "JUST a bachelorette party? Girl, this is the last night you're tied to us over that boy. If everything works out, this is the only one you'll have, your last night before resorting to being one of those house-mom types! Besides, isn't it chicks before dicks? Sisters before misters?"

I sighed. "First off, there's nothing wrong with being a house-mo-"

"Whoa! Whoa there, I didn't hear you, WHAT did you say?"

"Tessa, really, do I have to do this?" I whined.

"Oh, yes you do..." The evil tone in her voice caused me to groan aloud in despair. I flopped back onto the bed and closed my eyes, no longer tired at the thought of the long night I'd be enduring.

* * *

><p>"Can't believe...youurre getting marrieddd!" Tessa slurred, throwing an arm sloppily around my shoulder. I knew I had drunk more than my limit, but I was not nearly as far gone as Tessa was.<p>

"I know!" I responded. I stood off the bar seat, wobbling slightly as the floor tilted around me. Since Tessa's arm was already around my shoulder, it wasn't that hard to drag her with me.

"Wheree.. you goinn'?" She asked, giggling drunkenly as she spoke.

"Home. We're both wasted." Somehow, we both found this hilarious, and collasped into giggles, gasping as our sides hurt from laughter.

We stumbled out into the darkness of the night, blinking as the world swam in and out of focus.

"Taxzzii!" Tess slurred, throwing her arm up to hail a cab. Thankfully, he saw us, and was kind enough to allow two drunk girls into the backseat.

"Where to, ladies?"

I gave the cab driver my address, and he set off. I looked at Tessa in horror as a sudden thought struck me.

"We're ditching the others!"

"No... they all left, about.. two hourss ago." I frowned.

"When was thatt? How'd I miss it?"

"Dunno. Dunno why I 'member, either." The giggles began again, starting off slow, but then erupting into hysterics. We were laughing for the rest of the trip home.

* * *

><p>I groaned; the sunshine streaming through the open curtains seemed like rays of lighting pain, designed specifically for my pounding headache. I opened my eyes, only to see the world spinning in circles. I squeezed then shut again, moaning aloud as my bedroom door slammed.<p>

"Morning!"

I grabbed a pillow and shoved it over my face.

"Tessa," I mumbled through the pillow. "How are you so damn cheerful? You drank more than I did!"

"I handle my alcohol better. Now get up, it's your lover on the phone."

I instantly sat up straight, ignoring how my head swam with the motion. I reached for the phone, and my maid of honor tossed it into my hands.

"Timmy?" I asked into the phone. Tessa shook her head in mock pity before walking out of the room to give me some privacy. I flopped down on my pillows and closed my eyes, anxious to hear his voice.

"Hey, my love. How's the headache?"

I groaned. "Thanks for reminding me." He just chuckled.

"How was your night?" I asked him, genuinely curious.

"Probably not that much different from yours. Wilson and Drew invited a bunch of guys over to my place, naturally, and we pretty much drank and played video games until all but the three of us had left."

"Sounds fun - but then, why aren't you as hungover as I am?"

"I just handle my alcohol better, love."

I sighed dramatically. "Not the first time I've heard that. Apparently, Tessa does, too."

The door slammed open.

"I know you want to talk to loverboy, Sammy, but you've gotta start getting ready. Tell him to go get his groomsmen ready!"

"Tim, listen, Tessa's calling me away for the torture of doing my make-up. She says to tell you to start getting ready too."

"Ready? But the wedding's not until three, and it's, what, nine?"

"Don't ask me, I'm just the messenger. I love you, babe."

"I love you too. Can't wait for this afternoon."

"Me neither. I'll see you then, handsome."

"See you then, gorgeous."

* * *

><p><strong>Another slower chapter; sorry about that. Wedding is next chapter - possible prologue after, but the point is, this story's wrapping up. Hope you enjoyed!<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**Sammy's POV:**

"I'm getting married," I whispered, as I stared at the stranger in the mirror. She was beautiful, hair done up, with curls cascading down her head. Her eyes were glittering brightly, lined beautifully but naturally, causing them to stand out on her face. Logically, I knew it was me, but I couldn't believe it. This woman was beautiful; I was not.

"And you just realized that?" Tessa scoffed. "Don't move, I need to fix this." Obediently, I closed my eyes, holding perfectly still as she dabbed make-up on some blemish on my skin.

"I'm actually getting married, Tess. Don't you remember how we used to dream about this? Describe our ideal weddings, our perfect dates to each other? Now it's actually here..." My eyes welled up, startling even myself.

Tessa smiled softly at me, dropping the sarcastic image.

"I remember. This is amazing, it's finally your perfect day. I can't dream of a better match, either... I remember how when he first made his debut, you called me, telling me that there was your perfect guy. Right there on TV. You were so hysterical about it, you could talk about him for hours." We both chuckled at the memories.

"Don't forget," I could barely get the words out between the giggles. "In August of 2010, I'd be furious at anyone who implied he was doing bad or dragging his team down."

"Furious? Girl, you'd throw a tantrum!"

We both collapsed into another series of chuckles.

"Oh, gosh, I was a bit of a stalker, wasn't I?"

"Well, look how it paid out, huh? If you didn't have that devotion, would you be marrying the man today?"

I smiled softly, thinking of him.

"I don't know how I ever lived without him. Oh, Tessa, he's so sweet, so adorable..." She smiled, and made that "awww" face.

"I hope someday I'll find love like that." She sighed. "But forget about that. It's your big day, we've gotta make sure he'll drop dead when he sees you," she said with a wink. I smiled, and settled down further into the chair, allowing her to continue perfecting my face.

* * *

><p><strong>Timmy's POV:<strong>

I sat on my bed, burying my head in my hands.

"Oh, God, Bengie, what if something goes wrong? What if we're at the altar and she changes her mind? What if I ruin it, forget what to say? What if -"

"Tim. Cut it out." It was the voice of Bengie Molina, my long-time catcher, standing in front of me and putting his strong hands on my skinny shoulders.

"Tim, look, bro. This is like pitching in the bottom of the ninth, tie game, bases loaded with none down. You gotta be confident. Take deep breaths, do whatever it is you usually do on the mound." I nodded.

Even though I'd eventually gotten accustomed to Posey, Bengie had always been there for me. If I'd struggled in a game, I could call Bengie, and he'd give me my mechanical adjustments, or just give me what I needed to get my mental confidence back.

I took another deep breath, and stood up.

"Tessa will kill me if my tux is wrinkled..." I murmured, brushing my hands down the creases in my pants.

"Tessa?" Zito asked, from where he was standing. "Who's that?"

"Sammy's best friend. Tessa helped me with planning the wedding straight out of Sammy's dreams."

"Ohhhhh," Zito replied, a look of recognition coming over his face. "You mean the hot blonde that she was with last time she came out with the team, right?"

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming over my face. "Got the hots for her, do you?"

To my surprise, Zito blushed slightly, and lowered his head. It wasn't unusual for the guys to be teased about their girlfriends, and for the most part, sleeping with a girl was something to brag about later.

"Got it bad," Molina commented blandly from the other corner of the room, examining his fingers calmly.

Zito muttered a quick "Shut the hell up," in his vague direction. Bengie simply smiled, and stood up, signalling with his head towards the door.

"Shall we go?"

* * *

><p><strong>Tessa's POV: <strong>

"Oh, God," I gasped as I walked into the cathedral. "Oh, God, Tessa, it's everything I wanted..."

Suddenly I spun on her. "You told him what I wanted, didn't you." She grinned.

"You know you love it." I sighed, shaking my head.

"This is why I love you, Tess."

We both fell quiet as the piano started playing, drifting lightly through the high-ceiling church. Moonlight Sonata, one of my favorite Beethoven songs. As the song drew to a close, he launched into Fur Elise, another of my favorites.

"Ready?" Tessa whispered. "As soon as he starts the wedding march, that's my cue. Wait ten seconds, counting slowly, then follow me." I nodded, and gripped her tighter.

"Bye," she whispered, and drifted through the double doors. I switched arms, moving over to my dad, who was going to give me away that day. To my surprise, tears were glistening in his blue eyes.

"You look so beautiful today," he murmured, brushing his hand lightly over my hair. "Timmy's going to love seeing you."

"I know," I whispered back, smiling. Then I took a deep breath. "It's our go. I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Sammy." I forced a big smile onto my face, covering up my anxiety. We pushed open the double doors, and began walking down the red carpet.

Everything was so surreal. The ceiling was the highest I'd ever seen, with the last rays of the evening sun flowing through the stained-glass windows on the sides. We were walking down a lush red carpet, with a carpet of violet petals littered over it. My flower girl, otherwise known as my little cousin, had finished her walk quietly, for once, and sat down, completely according to order.

And at the altar, there was a standing arch made up of the most gorgeous mix of flowers - not roses, thank goodness. There were purples and reds and pinks and whites, blended together and woven tightly into the white arch, beneath which was my fiancee.

He stood, looking amazing in his tux, hands folded neatly at his waist, clasping each other tightly. His hair was shining, down, in the style I liked it best. His proud grin was blinding as he looked at me, his green eyes glittering like emeralds set in his face. I couldn't even look at my best friends, lined up on his right, or his present and past teammates on his left. Moving as though in a dream, I faced my dad as he kissed my cheeks lightly, and handed me over to my Timmy's arm.

I blinked back tears frantically as I stared into his eyes. The droning voice of the priest drifted out of my consciousness, until all I could see was my love's smiling face, his proud eyes.

"I do," he whispered, and I blinked, realizing that I now had to move. I turned to the beaming face of my other cousin, and pulled the gold band from the plush red cushion he portrayed to us. I gripped Timmy's hand tightly as I slipped the ring onto his finger, right into the place it belonged.

"Do you, Samantha Luvas, take this man to be your lawfully wedding husband?"

"I do," I gasped, eyes pooling again as I felt the metal slip easily onto my hand.

"You may now kiss the bride."

The last words were barely out of his mouth before Tim was leaning towards me, pressing his mouth to mine in a tender yet fleeting kiss, displaying our love while not being ostentatious, sweet yet arousing at the same time.

He pulled back, offering his arm instead, and I slipped my elbow through his, and we began our decent on the same red carpet to thunderous applause and the flash of media cameras.

"Where to, after the reception?" I asked him in a mutter, with a playful smile.

"You'll see," he murmured back, winking at me.

I raised my eyebrow at him, and he chuckled, pulling me down for another kiss.

That shut me up real quick.

* * *

><p><strong>Apologies for the long wait - school and sports, and oral pain -_- Well, we have an epilogue coming, and then this story is (sadly) over. However, I will continue to post any little one-shots I dream up (some Tim Lincecum related, some not) on my website at: glassangel (dot) weebly (dot) com. Also, while waiting, please feel free to check out any stories you see posted there, and comments are always loved! :D<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed this story!**

**(Oh, and did anyone see Timmy cut his hair back to the 2009 look? I think it's cuter now that he cut it. (: )**


	23. Epilogue

**So, this is the last chapter - the epilogue. Hope you enjoyed my story, and if some random little Timmy scene pops into my head, it'd be posted on my blog: glassangel (dot) weebly (dot) com. (: **

**Oh yeah - if a decent amount of people want an M-rated portrayal of their wedding night, I'd be happy to throw one on in a 24th chapter. (:**

**Well, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I stood on our balcony, looking out at the stars, gripping the railing tightly as I stared out at the swirling lights in the sky. So this is what Vincent was thinking, I realized. This scene, this unnatural beauty, was the inspiration for his artwork.

"A penny for your thoughts, my love?" Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into the warm curve of his body. I smiled, and stretched up to gently kiss the jaw that rested on my head.

"I was thinking about this. About how beautiful it is." I didn't bother to gesture at what I was pointing at: for one, we were on the same wavelength so much that he would already know what I was talking about. For two, my arms were laid upon his strong hands, which gently brushed my abdomen. The swell was just beginning to show - our third child, Lucy.

"Are the boys asleep?" I murmured gently, kissing further down his jaw. I turned around in the protective cage of his arms, circling my arms around his neck.

"Yeah, I checked." He bent down to kiss my mouth, capturing it in an almost-heated kiss, one that he turned into a sweet, sentimental gesture in a quick, experienced way.

"Mmm." I kissed him again, before leaving his arms to walk over to the four-person bench swing on the patio.

"Sit?" I asked, patting the spot next to me. He sat, wrapping both arms around me and kicking the ground lightly to start us swinging. I curled into his side, closing my eyes in pure happiness. Tim's warmth and the cooling summer breeze was the perfect combination, and I smiled against his skin. He kissed my forehead gently.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Sammy. I love you so much." he murmured.

"I love you too, honey. My life without you is nothing." At my words, he pulled me in for another long kiss.

"You know, Sam," he murmured when we pulled back, twirling a strand of my hair around his fingers. I tightened my fingers, in his own hair, in response. "Have you ever wondered what our lives would have been like if you hadn't told Belt that you admired me? Or if he hadn't called me over? Or, if I'd been to chicken to ask you out?"

I giggled. "I don't even think about the first two, I can't imagine a life without you anymore." I said honestly. "But for the last one - the great Tim Lincecum, loved by many male and female fans alike, young and old, being too shy to ask a measly fan out? Seriously, Timmy, who would ever turn you down? You're a national figure, people post YouTube videos with hearts everywhere, simply because they had a clip of you smiling. Your confidence level had to be through the roof!"

He chuckled. "Those are the overobsessive fans; you learn to stay away from those real quick." The mischievious twinkle in his eyes caused me to laugh aloud.

"But you," he continued on, "you were different, right from the start. I'm assuming you knew how tiny I was in high school?"

I nodded against his chest.

"Well, I also got turned down by every girl I ever really liked, and then some. When I first saw you, first heard you speak, I knew I was in trouble. My heart would start to race just because you were actually talking to me, not making fun of me, and not avoiding me."

I listened, awestruck at this sentimental tale. I could hear his heartbeat through his shirt, beating slightly erratically, just as he'd said. His fingers stroked up and down my spine as we continued to swing out on the balcony of Tim's, now our, Seattle penthouse apartment.

"Go on," I whispered.

He half-smiled down at me, green eyes soft in the moonlight.

"I knew I was doomed right from the start; I could only hope that I could get up the confidence to take you out, to remember my manners, everything my father had taught me, even as you walked by, swirling a gentle perfume that stunned me. And then, of course, your eyes. A beautiful chocolate brown that I could drown in forever - one that I'm very glad our sons inherited."

He smiled the proud smile of a doting father.

"I'm glad we had boys," I murmured. "When Lucy's born and they're all older, Gavin and Mark can beat up any guy, or girl, for that matter, that makes her cry."

He grinned, adding an extra sheen to his glittering emerald eyes. The dimples that abruptly creased his face were contagious, and I found myself grinning back.

"You know, I love your eyes," I murmured. He raised an eyebrow, indicating that it was my turn to talk.

"I loved them ever since I first saw them. Some press conference, I think, during that August where you struggled... You were pretty solemn-faced, and even without the smile, your eyes were the gorgeous green that I'd always dreamed of. And then, of course, your hair."

"My hair?" I pulled on it gently, nibbling his neck.

"Mmm. I've always loved guys with long hair, black hair especially. And with the green eyes... You were literally an embodiment of my dream prince." I sighed dreamily, and rested my head in the hollow of his shoulder.

His hand stroked through my now knee-length hair, pulling it over my shoulder so that it cascaded down my chest. With quick, able flicks, he deftly braided it, tugging off the little elastic tie I kept on my wrist to tie it off.

"My princess," he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

"My hero," I murmured back, closing my eyes to everything except him, sinking deeper into his scent.

"Forever."


	24. WARNING! MRATED! Wedding Night

**So, in answer to any who were wondering... Yes, Sammy is essentially me, but in personality, not name. I modeled her much after myself and my habits, but Sammy is actually the name of an old friend. (:**

**Now: WARNING! This chapter only is rated M - I'm not going to change the story rating overall because "M" applies to this chapter only. M for lemons, don't like, don't read.**

**This is their wedding night. If you've read this far and intend to go on: enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Sammy's POV:<strong>

I watched as Tim pulled the key-card out of his pocket, hands trembling slightly as he pressed it into the lock, pulling it out too quickly and having to try again.

"Nervous?" I asked, watching with a raised eyebrow. I didn't tell him that my own heart was racing at the speed of sound.

He chuckled a bit. "A little," he confessed. I smiled, and stretched up to kiss his jaw.

"I love you, Tim," I murmured against his face, as he finally got the hotel door open, taking a deep breath of relief. Suddenly, I yelped quietly as something hit the back of my knees. I realized it was his arm, as he gently caught me and lifted me, cradling me easily against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he kicked open the door and strode inside.

I gasped as I looked around the room, illuminated gently by glowing candles, placed around the room, with sometimes five or more of them placed on a single surface. I looked back at Timmy, meeting his eyes, glowing dimly in the candlelight. His green eyes were so dark they appeared brown, overflowing with love and desire.

Gently, he laid me down on the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Tim..." I murmured gently.

"Hmm?" He leaned down and began kissing the edge of my jaw, travelling slowly towards my throat.

"Timmy.." I whispered again, briefly losing my train of thought before it came back to me. "Tim, my dress..."

"What about it?" His lips never left my skin, never broke away from the trail they were blazing down my throat.

"It'll get wrinkled... I need to take it off..." He looked up then, and I inhaled sharply at the hungry, predatory gaze.

"In time, my love," he whispered, and continued his ministrations in the hollow of my throat. His hands ran up and down my sides, caressing softly, learning every curve of my body.

True to his word, Tim's mouth was soon pressing closely against the neckline of my dress, teasing, leaving me squirming beneath him on the bed.

"Stand up, Sam," he commanded, pulling back and gripping my arm to help me up. Still somewhat dizzy from the effects of his roaming mouth, I obeyed. He stepped behind me, and in one lithe movement, the zipper on my wedding dress was undone and he was helping me step out of the material pooling at my feet. I was suddenly aware that I was dressed in nothing more than my underwear, lacy red, something I'd bought specifically for this day, and had never worn before. Feeling his gaze boring against my skin, I felt slightly self-conscious. To distract myself, I turned, and busied myself in gently picking my dress off the floor, shaking it out and draping it over the nearest chair.

I swallowed, and turned back around to face Tim.

His breathing was heavy, eyes focused in predatory lust as he slowly stalked towards me. His entire body was made of glorious, rippling muscles, all tensed in anticipation.

"God, Sammy," he whispered, low and rough, before framing my face with his hands and bringing his mouth down to meet mine. Every hard line of his body pressed closely against my skin. Sweetly, gently, he pressed me backwards down onto the bed, covering my body with his own, pressing me into the mattress, but not enough to hurt.

I reached up, tangling my fingers in his hair as our tongues tangled with each other in a lust-filled yet still loving embrace. My fingers worked their way down to Timmy's collar, and began undoing the buttons of their own accord. He growled, pulling away from me just enough that I could slip off first his suit jacket, throwing it onto the same chair as my dress, without watching or caring if it landed properly. I wrestled off the white high-collared shirt underneath, adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothes, and pressing my hands flat against his toned chest and abs. Timmy groaned, dropping his head into the hollow between my shoulder and throat as my hands roamed lower across his hips.

"Sammy," he ground out.

"Hmmm?" I murmured back, slipping my hands beneath the waistband of his dress pants, watching his reaction with a devilish smirk on my face. I was not disappointed. He gasped, the same air soon escaping in a low moan. Beneath my hands, his muscles tensed, and I grinned.

"Sammy, my love, you're killing me," he groaned, and I could feel it. He was pressed into my thigh, rock hard and stiff. I rubbed him through his pants, teasing him with what was to come. He dropped his head again, but this time, pressed his tongue to my throat again, sliding further down my chest, licking around the tops of my breasts before sliding into the valley between them. Using his teeth, he pulled my lacy bra further down, baring my skin to him. He stared at my exposed breasts with a hungry look.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, before bending his head again, and rolling one of the nipples in his mouth.

"Tim!" I gasped, unable to help myself. He shifted his weight to his left arm, and his free hand came up to tweak the other.

"Say it again, Sam. Say my name."

"Oh.. Oh, God..."

"That's not my name," I could hear the cocky smirk in his voice, breath blowing chills onto my already raised peaks.

He moved his mouth lower when I still didn't respond, swirling his tongue into the indent of my belly button, causing me to squirm, making a point to brush against him as I did so. He somehow resisted the feeling, however, and moved even lower, nibbling at the edge of my matching lacy panties. I gasped.

"Oh, God, Tim!"

"Thatta girl," he murmured, before finally slipping his hand under the waistband of my panties. I bucked my hips up against his hand, and he began to move - slowly, agonizingly.

"Tim, please!" I wriggled against his fingers, pressing against me, making my meaning clear. Giving me what I wanted, he slipped a finger into me and I gasped.

"Ooh, Tim!"

"Sam," he groaned in response, slipping his finger in and out. I gasped again, feeling the waves of pleasure rolling through me, again and again, blurring my vision of Tim's beautiful greenish-brown eyes.

Then he pulled his finger out, and I gasped in loss.

"Tim!"

"Shush, my love..." I laid on the bed, panting, staring up at the ceiling as he pushed himself off me. I heard a zipper being undone, and glanced over to him stepping out of his clothes, with all 175 pounds of rippling man-muscle stepping towards me once again. He pressed himself against me once again, and with a quick thrust, sheathed himself inside.

"Oh, Lord, Tim..." I moaned.

"God damn, Sammy," he gasped, starting with a quick rhythm right from the start. He thrust himself in, then out at a rapid pace. I gasped as his hips somehow managed to hit that one spot every time, that one sensitive nub of nerves at my opening.

He leaned down without breaking pace, pressing his mouth to mine in a heated kiss. He pulled back after a few seconds, and stared into my eyes with every strong thrust.

Every thrust sent another thirty-foot wave of pleasure rolling over me, let another moan escape from my mouth as I was dragged under in pleasure once again.

"Fuck, Sam!" His thrusts were becoming more ragged, and I could tell that he was close from the tensed line of his jaw. I could feel myself coming close, too, close to that glorious edge of pleasure, where white light flashed behind your eyes - or so I'd heard. As it was, I could feel my body tensing, muscles locking in place for that final explosion of pleasure.

With one more thrust, he came, emptying himself inside of me. I came shortly after, locking my inner muscles around him, holding him inside me as I hit my peak, eyes shut, body arched. As I floated slowly down from my high, I became aware of Tim pulling himself out of me, and curling against my side, wrapping his arms around my body. I turned into him, tucking myself into the warm cave of his body. I sighed in happiness.

"God, Sammy, that was amazing," he sighed into my hair, dropping a light kiss on my head.

"Yeah..." I murmured back. "I love you, my Timmy."

"I love you more, my wife."

Nestled in each other and the warmth of our love, we fell asleep side by side, marking the beginning of our new life - filled with hope and happiness.

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><p><strong>And this officially concludes the story. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or even read part of this - and a special thanks to anyone who made it to the end. :D Thanks to all! Hope you enjoyed the story! (:<strong>


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